The Cherry Picker
by DannysSister
Summary: My First Fanfiction. A 16 year old Helga shouldn't be worried about the boys from her school, she can handle their cat calling and pathetic attempts to 'pop her cherry'. She should be more worried about the one who is watching, waiting. Waiting for the right time to pluck this cherry. He was experienced in this, he knew he could get away with it. No one would ever find her.
1. Chapter 1

It was 7.15am and she was going to be late…but she was always late. Plus sooner or later Miriam's 'I'm such a morning person now I've kicked my habit' sing-song-voice would creep its way up the stairs reminding her she couldn't stay in her protective warm bed forever.

7.25am.

'Helga darling, you're going to be late for school, I've made you some coffee to go'.

She had to get up now; the last thing she wanted was Miriam prancing into her room with said coffee, skipping around like a happy-go-lucky cartoon character or something…again.

Helga peeled herself away from the warmth of her bed, stripped off her bed shorts and shirt and grabbed a towel. She couldn't be bothered washing her hair…she would miss the bus if she did anyway. So after her shower she pulled on her baby pink skinny jeans and black vest top, pulling her hair into a messy bun before begrudgingly making her way down the stairs to slip on her trainers. Where predictably Miriam greeted her with a coffee and a smile.

Miriam had worked very hard over the last two years to wean herself, and stay off, her old pain medication. After hurting her back in a car accident when Helga was 6, Miriam _had_ to take them…then soon discovered that taking double doses a couple of times a day she would slip into a blissful dream like state where nothing mattered. She was bored, she was lonely, she had turned out to be anything but the person she set out to be in her early 20s. As the years went on her behaviour was an accepted problem, no one did anything about it for years until Helga turned 14. Olga coming home to become an 'actress', (aka she had no money to support herself while she went for her 'big break'), meant that Olga witnessed her mothers dependency first hand. Usually when Olga was home that last thing Miriam wanted was to be out of it, but after about 3 weeks the novelty of Olga being home had worn off and Miriam was bored…again.

Helga had to admit that her sister's determination to get Miriam on the right track was impressive, it took about 4 months before Miriam realised that Olga wasn't going to give up on her before she really took the _getting clean _thing seriously, and since then Miriam had been what Helga had always wanted, a doting mother who wanted to be there for you as much as she could. But going 14 years without this made Helga uncomfortable, Miriam was annoying…not drugged up annoying, more like the show 'Glee' annoying, Helga wasn't a 'Glee' girl, she was a 'leave me the hell alone your invading my life' kind of girl.

After Miriam gave Helga a quick hug and a peck on the cheek the slim blond teen practically dove out the house before anymore unneeded affection could be displayed. One thing was certain, Miriam could make the best coffee. Helga made her way to the bus stop and waited, closing her eyes and slowly sipping on the dark black liquid waiting for it to spring her to life.

The she felt a massive slap on her ass.

'WHAT THE FUCK!'

She turned to see the biggest grin slapped across Jake Thompson's face.

Now Jake was he most annoying of Helga's admirers. Having admirers still both shocked and irritated Helga, as she preferred to just go about her day unnoticed. But When Helga was just about to turn 15 she experienced what Miriam and Olga likes to call the 'Patterson effect'. Patterson was Miriam's maiden name, and all the Patterson women would go through most of their life being either plain or flat out ugly looking, until they became teenagers. Now since Helga took after her dad more than her mother in both the personality and looks department, it was thought she wouldn't experience the 'Patterson effect'. Well she did, just a bit later than thought. One of the most uncomfortable times in Helga's young life was the summer this happened. She had gone away with Bob, Miriam and Olga for a 6 week 'lets bond and we travel across America' tour, and during this time the Patterson effect kicked in. She literally left for her family break a 5'1, flat chested, no shape-skinny teen, and returned 5'6, curvy yet slender, big-busted woman.

Nothing fit her; she had to borrow most of Olga's clothes as the weeks went on. And when she got home she tried her best to hide both her figure and her face from anyone. Miriam and Olga were having none of this and went out one day only to return with what Helga now describes as her 'The younger Olga' wardrobe. Bob wasn't happy. Suddenly seeing his 15 year old daughter in tight skirts (be it a decent length) and V-neck tops made him nervous. When Olga had become a woman he wasn't worried, she was a good girl and would never think of doing anything stupid. But Helga was different, aggressive; he thought she would use her new image and body to her advantage.

But his worries were unfounded. Helga was commonly known as the 'Virgin we would love to bang'. She had no interest in flouting about, she wouldn't deny that she had had a massive ego boost over the last year with her class mates once previously heckling her about her 'dyke style look' to literally doing all they could to either be her _friend_ or flat out fuck her. But she was only interested in one person, and he had left a long time ago.

'You. Look. So. Hot'

He was practically drooling. Jake was the only guy she knew who wouldn't back off when she threatened to castrate him for eyeing her up. They hadn't grown up together, he joined Hillwood High only 2 years ago, so Helga put it down to the fact he hadn't experienced her pre-teen school yard threats, and of course fights.

'Don't start its too early'

She couldn't be bothered with witty retorts, it really was too early.

Even so, Jake took this as a weakness and firmly grabbed her ass, slipping his hand into her back pocket. Mistake. At that very moment the bus pulled up at the stop allowing the entire passenger collective to witness Helga throwing luke warm coffee into Jakes face, resulting in him tripping back flat on his ass as Helga calmly walked up the steps of the bus, all eyes on her, as she took her seat next to Gerald.

'Morning Pataki', Gerald muttered with his eyes glued to his cell phone.

'Where's Pheebs?'

'Dentist', his eyes not leaving the glow of his cell phone screen.

'Some one was recoding you as you flung that coffee on Jake. Uploaded to the 'Helga's tits and ass' page already'.

Helga hated Facebook. She joined it a couple of years ago out of a mixture of curiosity and peer-pressure. Straight away she realised this was something she did NOT want to be part of. Nothing but self-indulgent photo albums, duck face profile pictures and attention seeking statuses. Plus, she had searched him.

Since Arnold had moved to San Lorenzo with his parents 4 years ago he had written to her. She wrote to him. She never posted them though, preferring to neatly organise the letters in her room. She thought, well she knew, she needed to distance herself from him. Her entire being had been Arnold for so long and she was exhausted. She was both terrified and relieved when he announced he'd be moving. This would be good for them, some distance would be good. She never intended on flat out ignoring him though. As time went on the letters got harder and harder to post, and his letters became fewer and fewer until they just stopped.

After three months and no word from Arnold she asked Phoebe and Gerald not to mention him to her. They obliged without asking why, they didn't need to.

When she searched him he had a very restricted profile. But not so restricted that she could scroll though his collection of profile pictures. He looked happy, he looked like a man. And she still loved him. Damn.

'I thought you had reported that page, it's disgusting'

Gerald finally tore his eyes away from his phone to look at her.

'I did, I mean I do! But when one of your pages get taken down another one pops up'.

She sighed. Another reason why she hated Facebook. It seemed certain members of Hillwood High's male population had created a couple of pages dedicated to documenting days her ass or tits looked good. As well as plots to see who could pop her cherry. Delightful.

'Yeah I know, sorry, I'm just not in the mood for cat calls or date proposals today'

'You should grant yourself lucky blondie'

Rhonda was sat behind them, fingering her long dark locks all the while shooting longing glances at some of the High school football team sat on the back row.

'Not all the girls on this bus, or even in our school, get to wake looking as hot as us', she snickered.

'Please. Don't ever say 'us'. There is no 'us' Rhonda. I'm not interested in your little social life where you enjoy a good game of grab-ass'

Gerald snorted a laugh, Rhonda looked pissed.

'Oh shut up Pataki, you think your so special because you're hot and still have your cherry. All it will take is one shot too many at another house party and you will have popped it'.

Now Helga was pissed.

About 6 months ago Rhonda had organised a little gathering at her house. Of course it wasn't little. Anyone who was either considered 'cool' or old enough came. Helga came parley for nostalgic reasons. All the PS 1.18 crew were going and she hadn't hung out with them all at the same time in so long. Plus she had come across her old Arnold locked when she was cleaning out her room earlier that day, so she needed a reason to smile again.

After about 2 hours of catching up with the old gang Helga was feeling slightly tipsy. Stinky had made some of his world famous moonshine and she wasn't keen on drinking anything else. Everything else Rhonda had up for grabs was either vile tasting or most likely spiked with some illegal substance. Stinky made good moonshine and kept it to himself, unless you were on his good side.

While stumbling out of the bathroom on the second floor of Rhonda's stupidly big house she was approached by Dylan Ryler, the typical high school heartthrob. Helga wasn't interested.

'Hey Cherry, want some punch?'

He had a cheeky smirk on his face as he produced a pint glass of red punch up to her face.

'Hell no, you probably laced it with cat aids or something'

'You're such a pussy Pataki, why do you even come to these parties if your not going to get to know other people except your stupid little group of kid friends?'

He was closer to her now, his face was almost in hers and all Helga could smell was vodka, cigarettes and fruit, from the punch she imagined. He then took a large gulp out of the pint glass and then handed it to her, a look of daring in his eyes.

Feeling reckless, she took the glass out of his hand and tipped it to her lips. She hadn't meant to, or maybe she did, she wasn't sure, but she drank everything in the glass then preceded to stare at him is she licked the rim of the glass. She had no idea why.

'Good girl', he grinned.

It all got fuzzy after that. From what she was told by Gerald the next day he had become worried when she hadn't come down fro the bathroom in over an hour. And after not finding her in there, him and Harold began checking all the rooms they could.

It was only when they got to the top floor and the final unchecked room did they find her. Dylan was on top of her; she had barely any clothes on except for a bra, her tank top was pooled around her waist. She was out cold. Dylan had nothing but his shirt on and they entered and saw Dylan spread Helga's as he was about it penetrate her. They pounced on him.

The next day Helga woke up in Phoebe's bed and had Gerald and Harold recount what they had seen. She was so stupid.

Luckily Dylan had just graduated from High school so she wouldn't have to see him again. Even so word had spread that Dylan almost popped her cherry. Of course they weren't interested in the fact he had probably drugged her with something, just the fact that he had gotten so close.

'You're full of shit Rhonda, fuck off'.

Rhonda grinned and sat back in her seat, satisfied that she had would Helga up nice and early today.

She was so happy to get off the bus and head to class. She had English first and would be able to switch off from all the crap and annoyance around her on a daily basis.

She saw phoebe immediately as she got off, smiled and quickly linked arms with the pretty Asian girl and headed up the stone steps of her prison that was high school, completely unaware that a man, a dark eyed man with a soul as black as the night sky was watching her as she walked. He was watching her and he was smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

It was FINALLY lunchtime. Helga felt like she was dying, double Maths just before lunch, surely someone was high when they drew up that schedule. No one was going to pay attention before lunch, especially not Maths!

She walked her way though Hillwood high's beige corridors, avoiding as many glaring male eyes as she could. She decided to take out her phone and pretend she was messing about online just to avoid one of Jakes lunch date 'proposals'. She was getting so bored of this.

Every day was the same cattle market walk from class to class. She could see girls desperately flinging their hair back and forth, applying and reapplying lip-gloss for the hope of some attention, be it male or female. It seemed that most girls just wanted some reassurance, any reassurance that they either existed or were deemed 'fuckable'. Helga wondered if she would feel that way if she didn't get as much attention as she did. Would she eventually be prancing around hoping some one would eye her up? She liked to think no, no of course not. But she knew deep down in her somewhere was that little bit of desire. The desire to be desired.

She spotted her one and only desired lunch date, Phoebe.

'Hey, want to grab a burger from the cafeteria and head outside?'

Helga was so lucky she had Phoebe. Phoebe was an amazing friend, and it felt like only now she really appreciated what that meant.

'That sounds awesome Pheebs, if I ever needed a cigarette its after double Maths'.

Helga started to smoke last year, during spring. Bob was being an ass and wouldn't let her go with Phoebe and the guys on a weekend camping trip. Bob, being suspicious of anything Helga did since she grew into her body, flat out refused to let her go. She had planned on sneaking out, meeting Sid around the corner once Bob and Miriam went to bed, but Bob wasn't stupid. He was practically camped outside of her bedroom door making sure she didn't budge, with her bedroom door open for good measure so she couldn't climb out of her window.

That's when she decided to piss him off. She grabbed one of Harold's cigarette packets about a week later and smoked away, making sure Bob caught her doing it to get him riled up. It actually took about two weeks of Helga trying before Bob drove past Slauson's and caught her, but by then she had actually got hooked on the nicotine and found it really difficult to stop.

She was trying though. Now she only smoked during the week, and only one at Lunch and one in the evening. She was planning on cutting it down to just one a day in the summer.

'So Helga, want to come over to my place tonight, our bi-monthly horror fest! Nadine is coming, not sure about Lila though, she said she'd only come if we watched something with a low rating', Phoebe bit into her burger.

'Lila is so lame sometimes'

Phoebe nodded, and as if right on que Lila approached from the courtyard doors. Lila too had developed well, though she was, what Rhonda termed, a bit 'nun-ish' about her dress sense. Despite her beauty she wasn't on Hillwood Highs most 'wanna do' list, purely because she was so _Vanilla_ as Sid put it. Helga had to agree.

'Hi Ladies', Lila grinned as she sat down, unfolding her packed lunch consisting of a simple cucumber sandwich, a carton of milk and a big red apple.

Helga looked down at Lila's lunch and smirked, then took an extra large bite of her cheeseburger, savouring the taste.

'What are you ladies up to tonight? I heard some of my chem class saying Mr Sampson is opening his drive through theatre tonight'

Helga frowned, 'That's a bit early isn't it? Usually he waits until June before he opens', she took a big gulp of her soda, letting some of it run down under her chin as she swallowed.

Lila eyed Helga, obviously wanting to comment on her lack of manners when it came to eating, but held back. 'I know, but as the weather has been so good and the movie theatre is being refurnished he's being ever so nice and opening it early' she chirped.

'Cool, guess we could have our movie night there, make sense'

'It does yes, and guess what they're showing?'

Helga paused, and looked suspiciously at Lila waiting for her response.

'The Note book', Lila grinned.

Helga sighed.


	3. Chapter 3

Helga opened her wardrobe and sighed. Olga had been shopping again. It seemed that she had become obsessed with Helga's fashion sense more and more over the past year. Helga thought that maybe Olga was living her rebellious teenage phase though her, something she never did herself for fear of upsetting Bob and Miriam...or ruining her squeaky-clean image. Helga only thought this as every so often Olga would buy her racy underwear and short dresses, skirts and low riding jeans. Olga had pretty good taste, but some of the more revealing outfits were definitely a stretch too far.

But in one-way it was a good thing. Helga hated shopping and anything that could be done to avoid doing that was a good thing, so she just let Olga do her thing and Helga avoided wearing the more 'whorish' outfits out in public, she didn't want anymore attention.

It was 7.45pm and Helga was supposed to be meeting the girls at the outdoor cinema in 30 minutes, another rush job she thought. She guessed she'd just eat a hot dog at the theatre or something, as Olga was out of town Miriam was cooking, yeah she definitely didn't want to eat at home.

He was waiting. He had been waiting for a while and knew it was time. He had her movements memorised, knew what she would do and when she would do it. She was fairly predictable, only on occasion had he been knocked off track as to her whereabouts and habits. But tonight he knew where she would be going, and he knew she would be heading there alone.

And as predicted, there she was. The tall dark man rubbed his bandaged hands together, watching her. She looked lovely. Her hair was down, he liked it when she wore it down, and she was wearing a pair of low riding dark denim jeans with a deep read v-neck complimented by a long beaded necklace and earrings. She walked quickly though the streets, she was playing on her phone, he had hoped she would be distracted.

She was always late, usually by about 10 or 15 minutes so he knew she would take the back routes to make up time. And that's where he would be. He quickly grabbed his weapon of choice from the worn leather bag in the passenger side of his car, unscrewing the bottle cap and pouring a generous helping of he clear liquid onto a rag. He was excited. It had been a long time since he had had the chance to do this again. It was hard to find decent cherries these days, all the girls were so quick to grow up, so quick to give themselves to other men or even boys. But not girls like her. She knew she was beautiful, she knew what she did to men, but it didn't make her a whore. She didn't want to just give herself to anybody; he hadn't even witnessed her flirt with anyone. No she was special. She was the perfect type of cherry.

He bunched the now wet rag in his hand as he left his car. He would have to be quick; she was quick on her feet too. He moved his way down the alleys surrounding her route and positioned himself behind a dumpster, and he waited. He could hear her footsteps, his heart rate quickened.

TO PHOEEBS

_''I know, I know, So, So sorry I'm late again, will literally be there in two minutes''_

She decided to take the back routes to the outdoor theatre, she hated taking them it was really creepy going down the alleys when it was getting dark, but she couldn't be any later than she already was, she was always late.

Then it happened so quickly. It didn't feel real.

Two powerful arms grabbed her from behind, one whipped round her front, pinning her arms to her sides and pulling her back close into him. The other pressed against her mouth with a damp and foul smelling rag. She struggled, tried to free her arms to claw at him. The figure then kicked her in the back of her knees, making her buckle down to the ground. He sat on her legs from behind so she couldn't kick. She was still struggling. It was all going quiet, she was starting to fade.

He knew she would struggle, they always did. But he knew what to do, he was an expert. Eventually they would stop when the drug kicked in, and then he could look down at them, admire them, and take them.

He slowly removed his hand from her mouth and tenderly let her head fall back into his arms so he could get a good look at her. This one really was beautiful. She looked so peaceful in his arms, and he smiled. His eyes crept up and down her body, admiring his prize. Her curves were perfect, her chest was full and pert, and her lips were a shimmering raspberry pink. He kissed them, he tasted her for the first time, and she was delicious.

He noted her phone had fallen to her side. He would leave it. She wouldn't need it any more. He placed her carefully on the ground before checking her pockets. He removed her wallet, her keys, a half opened pack of gum and placed them by her phone carefully. He checked her back pocket. A long pink ribbon, it was lovely he thought. He'd keep it for later, maybe tie it in her hair, it would suit her.

Placing one arm under her head and the other under her legs her carefully lifted her, held her close and made his way back through the now dark alleyways, back towards his car.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been about 3 months since Arnold had managed to get near a computer screen. He was desperate to speak to anyone from the outside world, sure he loved delving deep into the jungle with his parents, but going for months at a time without any other human contact with teenagers his own age was driving him a bit crazy. So every time they ventured out of the jungle and met any form of civilization, the type with an Internet café, he would plonk himself down in front of the screen for hours. He would read the news, read his favourite blogs and like most teenagers, spend a stupid amount of time on Facebook.

He both loved and hated Facebook. Without it he didn't know how in touch he would be with his friends back in Hillwood, with Facebook he could see what they were doing, talk to them and reminisce. But that was also the problem. He could see what they were doing, talk with them and reminisce, knowing he wasn't experiencing what they were experiencing, knowing he wasn't truly sharing real teenage experiences. He was an on-looker, an outsider. A fraud of a teenager, and it sucked.

He sighed loudly. The café was hot and flies were buzzing around the single whining fan perched on the corner of the counter. It was times like this that he really missed air-conditioning. His parents were sat at the other end of the café, probably emailing their latest findings to the research centre, they too would spend hours in the café, though most likely not on Facebook.

He typed Facebook into the URL and waited, the connection here was worse than the other places they had been on their jungle breaks, and he tapped his fingers impatiently. He did and he didn't want to sign on, he wanted to upload his pictures, show them all how wonderful and exciting the jungle was and maybe make them a little jealous. But he hated seeing what she was doing.

Helga didn't have a Facebook profile. She did for about a week a year or so ago but either she came off it or she blocked him. Gerald said she came off it but Arnold was sure she had blocked him. Arnold sighed again.

The last time he logged on he was so angry with her. He read page after page of status' declaring she had gotten so shit faced at one of Rhonda's parties she had ended up in bed with some older guy. But according to Helga's 'fan page' they hadn't gone all the way, something about them being too drunk and some jealous guy and his friend coming in and grabbing her. He had inboxed Gerald asking him what the fuck happened, hoping not to sound too pathetic on checking up on Helga's bed notches, but was too angry to wait for a response and logged off. Maybe today he would get an idea of what really happened. Though he knew he shouldn't really care.

He was online with Facebook and immediately looked up to his inbox icon, about 15 messages. One was bound to be the explanation from Gerald. Arnold braced himself and clicked to his inbox, briefly scrolled down, purposely avoiding who the other messages were from and saw a reply from Gerald.

_GERALD JOHANNSEN _

_Arnold! Don't go mental, you know what Facebook can be like. Helga was basically drugged by this prick at school. Harold and me went looking for her when she had been gone for a while and found him literally on the verge of raping her. I grabbed her and Harold gave him a damn good black eye. The shitty thing is that his dad is a cop and Helga though that since he didn't actually do anything nothing would be achieved from ratting him out. Plus we were all 'under age' so would probably be deemed as just being too drunk or something. Phoebe is really pissed. Helga is ok, a bit shook up but ok. As she was coming round the next day she mentioned your names a couple of times. She still wont let us talk about you though so still don't know what the crack is there man._

_We're looking after her so don't worry. Looks like you're having an awesome time out there anyway. Take it easy and enjoy yourself…but don't be a stranger._

_G-man_

Arnold exhaled. He hadn't realised he had been holding his breathe while he was reading. She didn't go by choice, he was so happy. But wait, she didn't go by choice, Arnold was pissed. How dare this prick think he can do that to her, or anyone? What an ass hole. He would find him online, if he couldn't scream at him to his face he would do it virtually.

Arnold clicked back to the home page, but he paused. Confused by what he was reading.

_PHOEBE HYDERDAHL_

_If anybody seeing anything or hears anything as to Helga Pataki's whereabouts please call the police as soon as you can_

_GERALD JOHANNSEN _

_Its been 3 days since Helga Pataki has been missing. She was wearing dark jeans and a red top. PLEASE HELP US FIND HER_

_ PHOEBE HYDERDAHL_

_Really really cant cope with all of this_

_ - GERALD JOHANNSEN _

_ We will find her babe_

_ -LILA SAWYER_

_ I haven't slept, I cant believe this is happening_

_ -PATTY SMITH_

_ She will be found, shes a tough cookie_

_ LILA SAWYER_

_'SEARCHING FOR HELGA' page updated, please spread the word!_

The posts went on and on. He couldn't breathe. Maybe it was a joke? Arnold scrolled down only to met with more, many more and older posts from almost everyone about Helga. Maybe it wasn't a joke? Maybe she really was missing?

He went up to his inbox, and clicked, urging the page to load faster. He had to contact Gerald. He had to know what was going on. Only then did he absorb the other 14 messages waiting for him in his inbox. He could see the first line of all of them. And all of them mentioned Helga. His eyes were drawn to the latest message, a group message. He quickly clicked on it.

_GERALD JOHANNSEN, PHOEBE HEYERDAHL, PATTY SMITH and 28 others_

_GERALD JOHANNSEN wrote: Arnold, we all decided to message you together, we knew you would be out there in some café at god knows what point of this shit unfolding so thought it best to let you know what's happening when we do to save you scrolling through here and going mental. _

_Basically Helga was supposed to meet the girls and us on Friday at about 8.15pm, then we were all going to the outdoor movie theatre. Helga's always late but when it got to 8.45 and Helga still hadn't shown we knew something was up. We tried to call her a bunch of times but her phone kept ringing out. Naturally we rang her house but her mom said she had left ages ago, her mom and dad met us at the theatre and we went out looking for her. The fucking police weren't interested until she had been gone for 24 hours._

_We all teamed up and went every where, then Brainy called saying he'd found her phone and some other stuff down an alley. We called the police and luckily they came 'what fucking heros'. There had obviously been some sort of struggle down the alley with the way the dirt had been kicked up. But the weird thing was her phone and wallet etc had been placed really neatly in a triangle. _

_Im not going to sugar coat it man. We're all pretty fucking worried._

_ PHOEBE HEYERDAHL_

_UPDATE: One of Helgas earrings have been found down another alley._

_PHOEBE HEYERDAHL_

_UPDATE: Police are widening their search to a 200 mile radius_

Arnold froze. She had been taken. But she couldn't have been, that was impossible. Helga would NEVER allow herself to be taken. And what if he had hurt her? What if there was a gang of them and they all took her off somewhere? He had to get back. He felt dizzy. He had been holding his breathe again.

He positioned his hands ready to type what he had hoped to for a long time, but under much different circumstances.

_ARNOLD SHORTMAN_

_I'm coming back._


	5. Chapter 5

The smell of damp penetrated her nostrils. Everything ached, but not like she had been beaten up or even hit, like her muscles hurt, like the inside of her muscles hurt. She then realised she had a BANGING headache, she groaned.

Helga opened her eyes a crack and immediately her eyelashes were met with the pressure of material, she was blindfolded. But the blindfold wasn't too tight and she could make out a vague ray of dim light. She tried to focus but it was hard, everything seemed really hard to do. She tried to call out but her tongue was met with material, she had been gagged. She went to move her arms, then her legs, but they had been bound.

It then dawned on her what had happened. The alleyway, the damp rag, the struggle. Her heart raced.

All of a sudden the creek of a door was heard and footsteps creped across the floor, slowly. She could hear what sounded like old floorboards protesting with the weight of heavy boots, and she could hear breathing. Whoever it was breathed hard, she didn't remember breathing when he took her, she just remembered shock, the smell of the rag. Her own fear.

Helga didn't move, she kept as still as she could trying to weigh up the situation. He came closer and then she felt the weight of the mattress shift as he sat down. He was breathing hard again.

She lay there for what couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes until he uttered his first word to her. She hoped he thought she was still passed out, asleep, whatever. But her ears were met with a deep, husky worn voice.

'I know you're awake Helga. I know you can hear me'.

He was experienced. He knew it would take a couple of days for the drugs to get out of her system. On their way to the den he had to give her more than he would have normally. She had been moving about, they don't normally move about right after one dose. She was different. She wasn't going to give in lightly. He liked that, that's why he chose her.

Her body had stiffened when he spoke to her, that's how he was sure she was awake. He wanted to touch her, but he would have to wait. They weren't in the right place. They needed to be in the right place, the place where they all ended up, the place where he showed them how beautiful and special they were. The place where he saved them from they eyes of those who didn't deserve to see their beauty, their purity.

His eyes wondered over her body. So perfect, so young. He reached over to her face and paused, he wanted to see her big blue eyes, that was the only pleasure he would allow himself, for now. He slowly lifted the blindfold, being as gentle as he could not to pull on any of her hair.

She blinked several times. She would have blurred vision, this made it safe. She wouldn't really be able to take in the details of the room, or even his face.

Her eyes were beautiful. He knew they would be. Watching her from afar didn't allow him to study her face up close but now he could, and now she was waking he could drink in her eyes, her big blue eyes, her soft white skin and her golden hair tumbling about her face.

He lifted one bandaged hand to her cheek and stoked it. She stiffened. He hoped she would relax but he knew she wouldn't. They were always nervous, always confused. He wanted her to know how he felt about her. And she would, but for now she would have to go back to sleep.

He reached into the worn leather bag by his feet and took out the same rag he had been using on her, poured the clear liquid on, secured the lid and then placed the rag in his lap. He reached over to her face again, she was trying to focus on him now, she was trying to understand. She would understand soon.

Carefully he untied the material that bound her soft raspberry lips together and released them. She was still looking at him.

She took a breath, a tear rolling down her cheek.

'Why?' she whispered.

But without response he slowly he picked up the rag and pressed it down over her mouth and nose, staring down at her as she looked up at him, full of sadness. Another tear rolled down her cheek as her eye lids fluttered, giving in to the drug. He smiled at her.

'Because your perfect, my cherry darling'.


	6. Chapter 6

Arnold's mind was burning. He hadn't slept, he hadn't eaten, he had barely even sipped a drink of water. Would she have water? Would this sick person, or people, give her any? Was she cold, hungry, scared? Arnold was wired; his body functioning on god knows what.

After he had responded to the group message on Facebook he hadn't bothered to wait for a response. As far as he was concerned, he was going back to Hillwood, he was going to help. He would find her.

They had no choice but to let him go. His parents knew that Arnold would stand his ground, probably go anyway, and they needed to show their support. Miles and Stella weren't supposed to be leaving the Jungle for another year; their research grant wouldn't be over until then. And they couldn't let him travel alone, not in the state he was in. They had never seen him so worked up.

They were on their 4th connecting flight; Arnold had barely spoken a word. It wasn't going fast enough, why wasn't the plane going fast enough? He closed his eyes, praying time would stop standing still, hoping that when he opened his eyes he would just be sat there, in his old bedroom, dim lights filling the room. She was there. She would be safe, she would be smiling. She would kiss him.

Arnold opened his eyes, and sighed. He was of course still on the plane.

He looked around the cabin; it was quite full, barely any spare seats. He was sat in the aisle, he wanted to be able to get off the plane fast, as soon as the doors opened he would be gone.

Across from him sat a young couple, they couldn't have been older than 25 or 26. They played with each other's fingers absent-mindedly as the tall blonde man focused his eye's attention on the in-flight magazine. The woman, with long dark hair and olive skin, was dosing in and out of sleep, every now and again opening her eyes to look over at her partner. Her eyes fogged with bliss.

He thought back to Helga. He hadn't spoken to her in so long. He had written to her every couple of weeks but never heard anything back, he'd always included the addresses of the mail depots he would visit, but there was never anything there from her. Usually just batches of Grandma's prune cookies.

Gerald and Phoebe had no clear idea as to why Helga had such a problem writing back to him. When he first left she would talk about him all the time apparently. But as the months and then years went on she would leave the room if his name came up in discussion, sometimes just change the subject. Then apparently one day she told them she didn't want to hear about him, didn't want to know what he was doing or how he was doing. That hurt.

Phoebe swears its because Helga misses him and she's finding it hard to adjust without him. Arnold was sure its because Helga was done with him, and it was easier for them both to just cut each other out and move on. HE couldn't move on.

Arnold reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. Unfolding the tired leather he reached inside the centre fold and pulled out a worn photograph, and he looked down at her face. They were 12 and it was summer, it was the best summer. They had got into barely any arguments in almost 3 months at the time; they were learning to be a proper couple. He knew now that they were under so much pressure when they admitted their mutual feelings at the tender age of 10. They were feeling things for each other most people don't experience until their teens, or much older, and it was quite hard to handle.

Helga didn't cope well with displaying her feelings in front of other people; she had always been such a closed book when it came to her true thoughts and feelings. The only things people knew about her was the things that pissed her off, not the things she liked, or even loved. It really irritated Arnold to find out how much she cared about what other people thought; he didn't see her as that sort of person, especially with the way she would carry on at people, acting like she didn't give a shit all the time. She was actually really fragile; things bothered her, things that didn't really matter, things that did matter. She was very different but also exactly the same as another pre-teen girl, he wasn't expecting that.

Arnold smiled down at the photograph. Helga was smirking at the camera and holding up a novelty-sized lollipop, her arm around Arnold's shoulders. Arnold wasn't looking at the camera; he was kissing her on the cheek, pulling her in from the waist. He wished he could go back to that time, play it over and over, kiss her again.

'We will shortly be arriving at our destination. Please ensure all tables are stowed away correctly and all seat belts are securely fastened'.

Arnold's heart raced, he would almost be there. He quickly placed at photograph back in his wallet and returned it to his pocket. He breathed out calmly.

'I'm coming Helga'.


	7. Chapter 7

They were somewhere different, it smelt different.

Helga slowly opened her eyes and was met with a harsh blinding light. Her vision was still blurred, she tried to focus. Slowly shapes started to form around her. She looked down at her body and was grateful she was still clothed, but then she saw the chains around her ankles. She tried to move her arms but as she suspected they weren't free either, they were pinned down at the wrist above her head by some sort of clamp or chain. She could barely move them.

She looked around again, her vision clearing and took in the room. It couldn't have been any bigger than her bedroom, but it was dirty. A very bad tiling job surrounded her on all four walls. She assumed they were meant to be white, maybe make the room look clinical and fresh but they were dirty and tired. There were some deep brown stains across a few of them, Helga's heart thumped.

To her far right there was a single computer screen atop a small desk. The computer monitor looked like something from the 80s, and the tower's fan was making a painful whining noise as it fought to keep the equipment cool. Surrounding the computer station were piles and piles of neatly staked files and folders, and next to them was a single shower cubicle. It must have been the cleanest thing in the room. The whole cubicle looked like it didn't suit this nightmare place, it looked like something out of a showroom, maybe it had just been installed? No. If anyone came to install that, here, they would be disgusted. Disgusted and confused. Helga was confused.

That's when she saw it, to her left, a large collection of photographs, maps, schedules all pinned neatly to the wall. There were pictures of her. Pictures of her with Lila and Phoebe, pictures of her at school, in the park, at the café. In a rational way this all made sense. As far as she was aware she had been brought here by some mad nut job, so it was pretty normal considering the circumstances that he would have some shrine like wall or collection of his target. But there, to the left of the photos, schedules and notes…was a picture of Arnold. Why was there a picture of Arnold? Had this sicko got Arnold? Was he hurt? It made no sense to her.

She tried to swallow, her throat was dry. It must have been hours, maybe even days since she had drunk anything. She had no concept of time. It could still be Friday for all she knew and her friends could still be waiting for her at the theatre. It could be six months since that day and they had all given up, assuming she had run away or was dead. She tried to swallow again. She looked up at Arnold's photograph.

A door opened.

She hadn't noticed the door, it was as dirty as the tiles that surrounded these four disgusting walls, it almost blended in and made the room look impenetrable, like there was no way in or way out.

And then she saw him. Finally saw him. Approaching her was a stocky man, either with muscle or fat, she couldn't decide. He was about 5'9 and had dark, lank hair that danced around his podgy round face. He was wearing a large coat, a large brown coat and large dock-martin boots. And then she looked to his eyes.

She expected to see a scowl, a smirk, a sinister soulless stare that would run to her very core bringing fear. But she didn't. His eyes looked concerned, even kind. He smiled at her. She froze. He continued to walk towards her, stood right before her and held out a bottle of water.

He spoke, his voice tired and worn.

'It's a bottle of water, the seal is still there, I'll open it in front of you so you know it hasn't been tampered with. I wouldn't lie to you'.

She just looked up at him. Should she drink it? She was so thirsty.

He held the bottle close to her face and proceeded to turn the bottle cap with one bandaged hand. As promised the cap snapped as the seal broke.

'Tip your head back' he whispered, 'I wont hurt you, now drink'.

She opened her lips and allowed him to pour the water slowly into her mouth. It was cold, it tasted clean. She was grateful.

She drank almost the whole bottle before he took it from her lips and screwed the cap back on. She panted. He looked to her, his eyes appearing to be filled with something she couldn't quite read.

'I'm glad you're here.'

He sat down beside her, the mattress shifting her position slightly as it took his weight.

'I'm sure you have a lot of questions?' His eyes never left her face.

She didn't know what to say. Why was she here? Why her? What was he going to do with her? Would she ever be free from this room, from him? Was he going to kill her?

He sensed her questions, they were written all over her face. They always asked the same questions. They always wanted to know why they were so special, why he had chosen them.

'My beauty, you are here so you can be safe from all of them. All of those evil men who want to take advantage of you. All of those evil men, and boys, who don't see how truly special you are, how truly wonderful you are.'

She blinked.

'Girls like you are hard to find. Real beauties who are modest, strong and intelligent. All your friends, those _girls,_ so willing to give themselves away, but not you, never you'.

He brought his stumpy, bandaged hand up to her face, he stroked it. She flinched but continued to stare at him. She was toying with what to say, which question was more important.

Helga cleared her throat.

'Are you going to kill me?'

He paused.

'Yes'

She held her breath. She hadn't expected him to be so honest, she hadn't expected him to flat out say it.

'You will be cleansed by me, then you will join your sisters. The good ones. I set them all free. I cleansed them and set them free'.

Helga couldn't believe what she was hearing. Cleansed, what the fuck did he mean? Was he going to give her a bath? Maybe chuck her in the shower and put a rifle to her head.

'You have many sisters my beautiful Helga. Some were purer than others'.

He nodded over to another set of images pinned to the wall she was leaning up against.

There were about 15 photographs, maybe more, of girls. Pretty young girls. Helga clocked that the youngest couldn't have been more than 13 or 14. Next to each of them he had scribbled little symbols. Some had circles, some had squares and other had triangles. She noted there were few triangles, more squares.

'We need to make sure though my beauty. I don't doubt your innocence, I have been watching you, but I need to be sure. I need to see how clean you must get. He will be here any minute to check'.

He got up from the mattress and moved away, heading towards his computer station.

'Why is there a picture up there, a picture of…a boy? Up on…my wall?' She stammered.

He quickly turned to face her again, a new dark look in his eyes.

'Oh I know all about Arnold. But I know you're safe from him now. He's far away. You don't need to worry about him anymore'.

Then an electronic bussing noise was heard. She saw his face change. He smiled again.

'He's here'

The dark man then left through the invisible looking door in an instance.

Helga couldn't move. She couldn't believe what was happening. She had watched plenty of horror films, plenty of thrillers but nothing had prepared her for this.

The door opened again and he returned to the room, all the while smiling. Following close behind him was another man. An ancient looking man. He seemed to glide into the room like a ghost. His skin showed outlines of bone everywhere, like he hadn't eaten in years, like he was rotting away. This mummified man looked to Helga, he had no expression on his face. His eyes were empty, soulless.

'Helga, this is my good friend and Doctor, he will be confirming what I need. This wont take long, so long as you don't struggle my sweet'.

Helga had no idea what the hell he was talking about. A Doctor? Why the hell would a Doctor be here, helping this freak?

The 'Doctor' moved towards her, placing what appeared to be a surgeons bag by his side at the foot of the mattress. Reaching into his bag he took out some sort of metal stand. He unfolded it and secured the item at his hinges, it looked like some sort of tripod. She watched his long skeletal fingers reached again into the bag, removing what appeared to be a large magnifying glass. He secured it on the tripod at the foot of the bed, and paused. He looked towards Helga's keeper.

'Yes, of course, the jeans.'

Her capturer walked forward to her, knelt down beside her and placed his hands on her crotch.

'GET OFF' Helga screamed.

The skeletal man grunted angrily.

'Your right, I'll get the bottle. She might struggle too much'.

The stocky man then quickly got up and went over to a shelf by his desk, the shelf was garnished with bottles and bottles of god knows what. He carefully selected one and then grabbed a rag from a small box on the shelf and walked back towards Helga, kneeling down by her again.

He pushed the cloth to her face but Helga turned, she wouldn't let it happen again, she was determined.

He then grabbed her by the chin with one bandaged and dirty hand, forcing her face to him.

'I told you, I don't want to hurt you. You shouldn't resist, it'll be over quicker that way'.

With his other strong hand he clasped the rag to her face.

This one smelt different. She didn't feel anything either, maybe this one wouldn't work on her? Maybe he had picked up the wrong bottle?

He removed his hand. Helga was confused. Then she felt it.

Her entire body seemed to go limp, her head lolled back against the pillow, as though she had been paralysed. But she was aware, she could still feel, think. She was awake.

'Its taken effect, lets proceed'.

Her keeper then returned his hands to her jeans, unbuttoning them, grabbing the zipper and pulling on it. He then carefully began to peel her jeans from her body, stopping when they got down to her knees. He reached down beside him and presented what appeared to be large fabric scissors. Helga, now wide eyed watched him cut through the base of her jeans, then down either side of her legs, making her bare from the waist down except for her deep blue panties.

She wanted to scream out, wanted to tell him to stop, to get off, but her body wouldn't allow it, paralysed all over.

He then placed the blade of the scissors on one side of her panties and cut, then the other side, and promptly pulled them away. She was bare.

He didn't look at her though, he didn't seem interested. Once her underwear was gone he rose from beside her and moved back towards his computer station, leaving Helga alone with skeletor.

The 'Doctor' then proceeded to place a bony hand on each knee, pulling them up into a bending position, parting her legs and allowing them to fall to her sides. Helga felt the shackles on her ankles pull against her skin, she knew she would bruise.

The large piece of equipment that had been set up earlier was now being pulled closer to the foot of the mattress. It whined in protest as he pulled it into position, flicking a switch on the side, allowing a bright light to protrude from it directly on to her crotch.

The diseased looking man stared at her for a second, straight into her eyes before looking down to her crotch and pulling apart her folds.

She closed her eyes. She felt everything but could do nothing. His bony fingers circled her entrance carefully, like he was trying to ease her open. She then felt a cold device slowly enter her, but she couldn't flinch in reaction. It couldn't have gone into her very far, it didn't fell like it had. She briefly opened her eyes to see the man expertly studying her through the aid of a large magnifying glass and light. She could see the lines of his face magnified as he studied her, his skin like paper, like dirty folded paper. He removed the device, wiped it down and put it carefully back into his bag. He turned the magnifying glasses light off.

The click of the light set the man in the corner to bolt up from his chair. He grabbed a blanket from another shelf and made his way over to them, wonder on his face.

'Is she untouched?' he had a sense of urgency in his voice

The mummified man paused for a moment. And then nodded, never saying a word.

'Wonderful I knew you would be my sweet. I knew you were a good girl, an Angel'

He repositioned her legs so that she was not longer in such a graphic predicament, and covered her with the blanket.

'Now we can begin the arrangements my darling. Now we can set you free'


	8. Chapter 8

As soon as the cab pulled up outside of Helga's house he pelted straight up the porch steps and opened the door. There was no need to knock; they knew he would be coming. On the way from the airport he called Gerald from the taxi drivers cell phone, stressing it was an emergency, to see where everyone was tonight.

Arnold soon discovered that they all met, all 10 of them, each night to assess what had been found out about Helga's whereabouts, if there were any more clues or suspects. Arnold didn't know what they had found out, hopefully there was some sort of lead, some sort of progress made to make this nightmare end.

He hurried his way down the hallway, the kitchen light was on, that must be where they were. And they were indeed.

10 sad and surprised faces immediately looked up to him as he stood in the doorway. They were all either gathered around the table, or stood around it, arms folded, thinking hard. No one spoke. They just stared at him. He felt a bit awkward.

'Hey', he sighed.

Phoebe immediately leapt up and latched onto him, wrapping her arms around him as tightly as she could. He reciprocated, holding her as close as was possible. Then another pair of arms surrounded him. Gerald. Then another. Lila. In less than an instant almost all available arms in the room were wrapped around him, and he let them. He just stood there and let them in, he stood there and breathed in their scent, his friends, the people he loved. But she wasn't there. His shoulders dropped at the thought, and they all slowly fell from him, returning to their seats.

'Arnold, four years man, shit. Weird seeing you in the flesh', Gerald grinned at him

'I'd like to say you looked good, but well you look as tired as hell'.

They all looked tired. Everyone in the room looked like they hadn't slept in the 6 days since Helga had vanished, and he wasn't surprised. Scanning the room he sensed a sadness, they all knew why he had come, though no one would speak it. And he knew from looking into Helga's mothers eyes they had nothing. Nothing that would help them, nothing that would lead them to her.

'Good to see you Alfred', Bob chimed in.

'Arnold', Miles corrected as he too entered the room.

'Yeah, yeah that's what I said, Arnold. Anyway Arnold', Bob continued 'we've just been over the same facts we already know. We're no step closer. The police keep saying their following something but won't tell us what. We have a press conference tomorrow. We hope to drum up any sightings of her with that'.

Arnold stepped further into the room. All eyes watching him.

'Well I don't know everything, I want…I need to know everything'.

Phoebe stood, 'Arnold we've raked through all the possibilities, all the places we think she cold have gone if she ran. But we know she didn't run, she wouldn't run anywhere. We're hoping this press conference will help, in any way it can. Someone might have heard something through the grape vine'.

Through the grape vine? What was Phoebe going on about? Arnold didn't care about what they did or didn't think, he wanted some answers. They've had 6 days. 6 days since she was taken, 6 days in Hillwood where they surely could have found something, anything?

Gerald read Arnold's face.

'Arnold, I know. We sound pathetic. But this guy, or whoever it is. He's good Arnold. There weren't even any fingerprints on her stuff when the police looked at them. They had been weirdly arranged, into like a triangle, it was really creepy.'

He needed to sit down. He didn't want to hear that the guy was good. He wanted it to be some stupid stalker who maybe took a fancy to her, some idiot that had no idea what he was doing going up against Helga Pataki. Some idiot she could get away from, come home. Be here with him.

'Arnold'. Stella's soothing voice came in from behind him, a hand lying on his shoulder. 'I'm sure nobody here is doing anything less than what they can to try and piece this all together. Its midnight darling, the press conference tomorrow might help. We don't know how far she's gone, someone out of the search zone could have spotted her without knowing about any of this. Let's try and all get some rest, we're all useless half awake'.

She was right. His mother was always right. But he was so wired up. He had so many questions.

'OK, but will you all please tell me what you DO know. Remember I've spent the best part of 2 days travelling here, with no phone, barely any Internet. Just tell me what you know'.

'Of course Arnold, we will do our best', Lila smiled softly to him as she spoke, 'we all want her back, we will get her back'.

The small group spent the best part of two hours going over what they did know. Arnold listened carefully; making sure each person had said their piece before delving into any questions.

Helga had been going to meet the girls, they all knew that. But on her way there she had been attacked in some way. The alleyway left some but few clues. Her phone and some other items neatly arranged, with no other fingerprints other than Helga's, in a neat triangle. Her last text message sent on her phone was to Phoebe, telling her she was going to be late but was on her way. The struggle hadn't been too dramatic; the dirt had been kicked up a bit and according to the crime scene investigators it had been over quickly. But there had been no blood; she hadn't been killed at the scene as far as they could tell. She may have been attacked, perhaps with a drug of some kind, which ended her battle quickly, and then she was simply taken away.

One of her earrings had been found down another alleyway, not far from the original scene. Whether she had taken it off and dropped it to lead them they weren't sure. It could have just as easily fallen from her ear as she was carried. The were a few faint foot prints in the dirt, barley deep enough or good enough to make a decent casting from. And there was every chance they may have not been from her attacker. And then there was nothing else. If she had been taken in a car they couldn't be sure, the alleyway ended on concrete, which meant no prints.

They hadn't lied to Arnold. This guy knew what he was doing.

'And now here we are Arnold.' Phoebe signed, her eyes darkening with the ever-growing need for sleep. 'We're just hoping that with everything we've got going on tomorrow we will get a few steps closer to her'.

Arnold rubbed his eyes, still testing to see if this was a bad dream, a nightmare. It wasn't, they were all still there in the kitchen.

'OK, well my parents and me are staying over at the boarding house. Give me a call there as soon as you can when you need me over. And I'll be up early, so I expect an early call with instructions.' He wanted them to know he was serious. He wanted them to know he wasn't going to waste a moment.

'Of course we will man, we're all in this together.'

Arnold knew he was in this more than them, and when he found wherever she was, whoever had taken her…they would never see the light of day again. He bet his life on that.


	9. Chapter 9

She couldn't understand why she was still alive. Once the disgusting mummified 'Doctor' had examined her she expected to be killed. Probably raped then killed going by how obsessed this guy was with her being a virgin. Asshole.

But that was…maybe a day ago? She wasn't sure. There was no clock in the room, no windows to see the light of day. And this weird freak of a man only ever left the nightmare room for short spaces of time. Maybe he never slept? Maybe he wasn't human?

Either way she knew she was screwed. She could gauge a decent amount of time must have passed since she was taken from the alleyway, and to her the capturer didn't seem to be too worried about being caught. Probably because he wouldn't be caught. The evidence was all around her, the pictures on the wall, his drug collection, his plain and utter weirdness…he had done this many times before, and he hadn't been caught.

But was anyone even looking for her? She knew Miriam would have had a little hissy fit with her being out so late on a Friday night, and then an extra large hissy fit when she didn't come home. Bob wouldn't have noticed, he never really noticed unless he thought she might be going to meet a guy, which she never was, or caught her going out in 'inappropriate clothing', which she never did…in her mind anyway.

She knew the girls, especially Phoebe, would have panicked she hadn't arrived to meet them at the theatre. Knowing Phoebe a full scale search was probably launched, well consisting of Phoebe, Lila, Patty, Sid and a few of the other guys at least. But would they still be looking? Would they have given up?

Helga Sighed.

She looked up at her shrine type wall, to Arnold. Arnold would have no idea she was here, he would have no idea what was going on. He was probably traipsing around the jungle somewhere without a care in the world as what had happened to her.

Helga sighed again.

'My beauty, whats wrong? Are you getting restless?'

She turned to face him. He had swivelled his chair at the computer station round to stare at her, his disgusting face full of concern. She felt bold.

'If your going to kill me, can you just fucking hurry up and do it!' She spat.

He was taken aback. But he smiled.

'My darling, I know you desire to be clean, but we have to wait for the tanks to fill up, there was a drought and they have been barely filling over the past few months, but perhaps.' He paused, a look of ponder on his face. 'Perhaps they are almost ready. I haven't checked on them in a couple of days'.

And with that he got up and proceeded to leave the room, his face still in thought.

OH SHIT thought Helga. Tanks? What the fuck? Was he going to drown her? Helga's heart raced. Maybe they wouldn't be ready? Maybe she still had time? But time for what? To sit around here and wait to die? Maybe it would be better if it was over and done with, at least then she wouldn't be driving herself mad with thoughts of what's to come.

He came back in the room, and without looking at her headed back over to his shelf of bottled drugs. He picked up the same bottle used when they were with the 'Doctor', which meant more uncontrolled awareness for Helga. She wished he'd knock her out again. At least that way she wouldn't have to really experience what he was about to do, what ever that was going to be….but she was more than certain it was going to be awful.

He approached her, wet rag in hand and bent down to meet her face.

'Darling, only a little bit this time. I know what you can be like, and without the chains off we don't want you getting away now do we?'

He was excited. The tanks weren't quite full enough but it would do. He felt the power he always felt as he held the rag to her face. She didn't turn away this time. She was starting to understand, starting to see that he was her saviour, that she would be thankful soon.

Once the drug had taken effect he moved his broad bandaged fingers up to her shackles clinging her hands to the wall, her hands fell limply down to her sides. He saw that her wrists had bruised, he kissed them tenderly.

He moved down to her ankles and repeated the freeing process. He looked at her, she stared back. He knew she wasn't expecting what he had planned, but she would see, he needed to get her clean before the true process began.

Helga was surprised at how tenderly he picked her up. He was so gentle. And she was even more surprised to see that he headed towards to only door leading out of this hellhole. He struggled with holding her while he opened the door, but he managed it, balancing her tenderly.

The adjoining room was even darker than her usual cell. All around her strip lights flickered as they struggled to stay a light and the sound of dripping water echoed all around the room. Being cradled like a baby, Helga noted how the floor of the room slanted on all sides to the middle, where a large drain lay.

He carried her over to the far wall of the room and slowly dropped her legs to the ground, still holding her body upright. He seemed to struggle with something on the wall, and then she felt her left wrist being clamped, and then her right. He moved away from her. Her wrists burned with the pain of holding up her entire body, she couldn't do anything to shift her weight onto her legs, she couldn't even cry out.

He levelled himself to her face, lent in and kissed her. Helga thought she was going to be sick. He ran his tongue all over her lips, tasting her, hungry. She wanted to spit at him, kick him in the balls, but she couldn't do anything. He reached around her waist and unfastened the towel he had secured after her examination and threw it to the side of the room with ease. Then, removing the large pair of fabric scissors he had used on her jeans earlier from his coat, he began to cut up the centre her sweater, then down either arm, freeing her body of the material. Taking the scissors to her bra straps he cut them one at a time, carefully. The snip of the scissors echoed in the room.

He looked down at her and took her in, eyes travelling up and down her naked frame. She couldn't help but watch him as he observed her. He looked memorised.

'So beautiful' he whispered.

The stocky man bent to collect the clothing he had cut from her and wandered over to the other end of the room, into the darkness of the shadows. Helga's heart raced. Was this it? Was this where he gets the gun or what ever the hell he was going to use?

No. He came out of the shadows, struggling to drag what appeared to be a powerful jet hose. She knew what he was going to do as he aimed it at her. She swallowed hard.

'We must make you clean my sweet, we must get you ready!

He pulled back the leaver on the top of the large metal hose and sent a shot of powerful water at her abdomen. The water hit her like a ton of bricks and she wanted to scream. It was like she was being shot in the stomach with a powerful shot gun, as though it was creating a hole through to her spine. He then moved the jet all over her body, she felt herself bruising as the ice cold water smashed against her.

He aimed at her face, water filled her lolling mouth. She felt as though she was drowning. She tried to cough. Perhaps this is what he meant? He would drown her with the hose?

Then the stream of powerful water came to a dramatic halt. She coughed again. She tried to breathe as best as she could, tried to get the water out of her lungs.

He ran over to her and quickly released her wrists from their shackles. Her body smacked down to the ground with pain, her right hip bone took most of the of the weight as she fell to the hard tiled floor and she gasped. He lent down to her, gently lifting her face to look at him, as she lay wet, cold and bruised before him.

'My sweet, I'm so sorry but this is the only way. We must force any evil out of you, must force out any ill thought you have had with my clean, wholesome water.'

He placed her face back down to the ground and she sensed him walk away, returning with a large towel and gathered her up, carrying her back to the previous room and placing her back on the mattress.

He ran the towel lovingly up and down her body, ensuring she was completely dry, before placing it behind her head to ensure her hair didn't dampen the pillows too much.

Getting up suddenly, he walked to the other side of the room, bent down and began rummaging in a large wooden box. Pulling out a long white dress he walked back to her, and began to carefully slip it down her body. Then, out of nowhere she saw him take a ribbon from his pocket. Her ribbon. Her pink ribbon.

After tenderly tying the ribbon in her hair he lent back and admired his work, and smiled. But then he saw it. He saw her arm twitch. The drug was wearing off.

Grabbing her wrists, more bruised than ever, and placed them back in the shackles on the wall, and repeated the process with her feet.

'Your clean my cheery darling. Your past impure thoughts are showing on the surface', he pointed to the bruises now forming all over her body.

No, they're bruises you moron. You know, from when you fired a fucking jet hose at me! She wished she could talk back to him now, see how much of a nightmare she could be if she wanted, how unbelievably impure she actually was.

'They're all starting to see. They've been talking about you. They all want you back. They wont get you back though'.

He stood up and walked back to his ancient computer station. Moving his chair out the way he began to wheel the station to her. The desk was old, the wheels were protesting against its forced movement across the tiled floor with wobbles and squeaking moans.

She could barely make out the screen as it was a little higher than her eye level, but it was clear that there was some sort of video he was about to play. He clicked.

Helga could make out a blonde smartly dressed woman with a microphone staring out at her from the monitor. A confident voice followed, filling the room.

'Its day 7 of the Helga Pataki search and with little leads to go on the Pataki family are urging a nationwide plea to find their 16 year old daughter'.

Helga's latest school picture filled the screen. How stereotypical she thought, she hated that picture.

'The young blonde was last seen on Friday by her parents before leaving her home to meet friends at a local outdoor theatre. But when she never arrived both friends and family became worried as to her whereabouts and a search began'.

Suddenly phoebes tear soaked face filled the screen.

'I've known Helga since I was little, she's an amazing friend and person. We need to find her, help us find her'. Phoebe choked back sob.

A tear fell from Helga's eye.

Now images of Bob, Miriam and Olga appeared on screen. They were sat in front of a long table, microphones perched in front of their faces. The sound of clicking cameras could be heard, camera flashes danced all over them as they sat.

Bob spoke first.

'My youngest, my Helga, was last seen on Friday wearing a red sweater and dark blue jeans. Please if anyone has seen her, or heard anything contact the police as soon as you can'.

Helga saw the sorrow in his eyes. She had never seen Bob so concerned for her, had never seen how much her being away from him would affect him.

Another tear fell to her cheek.

'My baby sister', Olga whined, 'My baby sister has been taken from us. Please help us find her'. Olga's hands met her face and she sobbed.

'Police are urging any witnesses or anyone with any sort of information to contact them as soon as possible. But for now the search carries on her in Hillwood. Carrie McCann, Channel 5 news'.

The reporter's image froze on the centre of the screen as the footage came to an end. All Helga could do was stare at the screen. They were looking for her. Maybe they would find her? She was so glad they were looking for her.

'You see my sweet. They all see how wonderful you are now. But they had their time with you, tried to poison you with their disgusting ways.' He paused, looking down into her eyes, drinking in her face.

'But they don't have you anymore. You're mine now.' He licked his lips.

'They're never going to see you again.'


	10. Chapter 10

They were all sat around the Pataki's kitchen table again. No one said anything, they were all just deep in thought staring at the table, at the floor, at nothing.

The press conference hadn't led to much. A few phone calls from people out of state claiming to have seen her, but once the police followed it up it was clear it was a mistake, there was no lead. A couple of ass holes had called pretending to be the kidnapper, that really pissed Bob off, and everyone else for that matter.

Arnold stood suddenly, bringing life back into the room.

'This is ridiculous, we should be out there!'

'Out there doing what? Following what? Running to where?' Patty spat, her arms folded against her broad chest as she glared at him.

'I. DON'T. KNOW. But doing something! Knocking on doors-'

Phoebe interjected, 'Arnold, we DID ALL THAT, we have been doing that! No one has seen her. No one' tears falling from her eyes 'no one' she began to shake, Gerald went to her, held her close. She sobbed into his chest.

Silence filled the room again. There was a knock at the front door. They all turned to each other, confused. It was 11pm.

Arnold shot up and ran to the door, praying it was the police, praying it was some sort of lead, anything. He flung the door open.

Before him stood an elegant woman, with long chestnut hair. Her hazel, yet tired looking, eyes stared at him for a moment before she smiled.

'The Pataki's place?'

'Uh, yeah. Who are-'

'Oh good, give me a hand', she cut him off while shoving several large flat cases in his harms. Turning behind her she grabbed another larger case and some folders she had placed on the stoop. She quickly shoved passed him and headed into the house. Dumbfounded Arnold closed the door and followed her towards the kitchen.

Everyone in the room was staring at her in confusion. She didn't look like a cop, she looked like, well, just like any body. Though, possessing more authority than any cop, she had just barged into the house as if she knew the place, confidently smiling at them all.

'Hi everyone. Ah the Kitchen', she turned admiring the room. 'Always the brain house in situations like this, well most situations I guess. But I need more room.' She picked up her folders and case, looking to Arnold, 'come on then, into the living room, chop chop!' She marched off into the other room, again everyone just started at each other for a second, before they all moved as one, getting up and following as instructed.

Arnold placed the cases he was carrying beside her, as she appeared to be unfolding some sort of board, a white board.

'OK lady, who the hell are you and what are you doing just barging into my house?' Bob demanded.

She continued to screw the legs on the whiteboard, adjusting its position. 'I saw your press conference. It's been a while so I'm sorry if my social skills aren't up to scratch. I was working with the last family for the best part of a year, and their home kind of became my home, and the family before that etc, etc.' She wasn't looking at him, too busy opening all the cases, rummaging round for something.

'What the hell are you talking about. Tell me now before I CHUCK YOU OUT!' Bob was leaning forwards towards her, but she paid no attention, she just kept on removing and organising the many papers in her case.

'There's no need for that . I'm here to help.'

'What are you, a cop?' Miriam enquired, her voice full of hope.

The woman grinned to herself.

'Oh no I'm better than a cop, I assure you'.

She stood. And one by one she started to fix pictures to the whiteboard, pictures of young girls. Pictures of pretty girls. Arnold saw that one of them couldn't be more than 13 or 14 years old. Each photo stared out at them, smiling. Most must have been school pictures. She was holding the last picture in her hand, she sighed as she fixed it to the wall, a picture of Helga, Helga's School picture. She stepped aside, allowing everyone to see the collection of images before them, she allowed them to soak them in.

'My name is Laura, Laura Beaumont. I'm here to Help you find Helga, I'm here to help you get her back'.

'Back from who?!' Gerald demanded.

'Back from someone I have been looking for a very long time. I call him the Cherry Picker'.


	11. Chapter 11

'The what?' Lila asked, wide eyed.

'The Cherry Picker' Laura repeated, 'I've been following him for about six years now. Gotten close the last three times, sneaky bast-'

'- And what the HELL is a _Cherry Picker_' Bob demanded, his face getting red now, frustrated with the apparent lack of information.

'Well if you _calm_ _down_ I will tell you'.

She lent into another of her cases, taking out a marker pen and a notebook. Flipping through the notebook she began to write underneath each picture in no particular order.

_Clare Bebbington, 16, taken on the way to cheerleading practice. Never found._

_Amanda Carr, 16, taken as she walked to the movies. Never found._

_Nicola Watkins, 15, taken as she walked home from school. Never found._

She carried on with the task, they all stood or sat in silence watching her as she made notes below each image. She finally came to Helga's picture.

_Helga Pataki, 16, taken on the way to meet friends at the theatre. Missing._

Arnold felt sick. When would Helga's status become 'Never found'? No, he couldn't think like that. He had to stay positive, he had to hope. That's all he had….hope.

Rummaging around her case again, Laura pulled out and other marker pen, a red one. Then, next to each image she drew a symbol. _Square, triangle, circle, circle, square, circle, square, square, triangle….._

'OK', Laura clicked the lid back on the marker pen and stepped back. Pondering for a moment before turning to face the group, her chestnut hair falling about her face in an untamed way. 'This is our man, all of these images paint the face of our man. The man who has taken Helga. The man who took all of these girls.'

No one said a word, they just absorbed the images, their ears were hungry to know more.

'Over the past 15 years girls have been taken from all across the country. The places where they have been taken from seem to have no real connection, not one I can see anyway. But the way they were taken has, and the reasons why they were taken do'.

She pulled a laser pointer from her pocket, aimed the red dot at the first girl, then to the next, describing each one briefly as if reciting a shopping list.

'Clare Bebbington, 16, popular girl but wasn't allowed to date, she didn't want to date, she was more interested in school, wanted to become a solicitor, virgin. Katherine Hawkins, 14, very beautiful girl, was actually selected by Vague magazine to promote their pre-teen collection one year, she turned it down, virgin. Miranda Lawson, 17, from my research it was revealed she was actually a closet lesbian, he probably didn't know which is why he must have thought she was so pure and perfect, _technically_ a virgin'.

Each comment sent a chill down Arnold's spine. He glanced across the room, taking in everyone's expressions. It seemed they all felt as bewildered as him. Bob and Miriam held each other close, Olga clinging onto her father tighter and tighter as Laura continued to describe each girl.

'And finally we have Helga. 16, suffering from the traditional _ugly duckling syndrome _she was uncomfortable and modest with flouting her beauty, though she was aware of it. Highly intelligent, wanted to become a writer. Not interested in any boys at school, just you'.

She pointed at Arnold. The room stared at him, he felt awkward, but also elated. She only liked him, was only interested in him. But was that _WAS _or _IS?_ He cursed himself, he shouldn't be concerning himself with that now, he would deal with that if they found her….when they found her.

'How the hell do you know all of this stuff about her?' Gerald eyed laura suspiciously.

Phoebe stepped in, 'Yeah, I mean, Arnold's been gone for what…four years? How the hell did you know about him?'

'I know about Arnold because _he_ will know about Arnold. Like Helga's kidnapper I make it my business to find out things, you can only know where to look when you know exactly what you're looking for, and why '. She began flicking through her notebook again.

'OK, so _why_ does this sick freak only want pretty girls, who apparently don't sleep around, who are always off socialising?' Gerald's tone was aggravated.

She stared at him calmly before she spoke, authority in her words.

'Because they're perfect. Girls these days are so quick to grow up and taste what it means to be a woman, so concerned with being pretty, wanted, desired. Girls like theses, girls like Helga, for various reasons, don't want to be noticed, don't want to be desired, not outright anyway. Not unless they desire someone themselves.'

She glanced at Arnold, his face burned.

'Girls like Helga, are actually really uncommon. I assume she is actually a virgin?'

She looked at Arnold again, everybody looked at Arnold.

'I HONESTLY wouldn't know, I haven't seen or spoken to her since we were…12…I think'. He was sweating; he was being truthful but felt as guilty as hell.

'You better be telling the truth boy' Bobs fists were raised.

'No she is, I know she is.' Phoebe chimed in, 'we were talking about it the other day actually. Helga was saying she didn't understand why everyone was in such a rush about the whole thing, said it was stupid the way some of the girls carried on'.

'My point more than proven', Laura smiled at her confirmation.

'So, he likes pretty girls, he likes pretty girls who are virgins, he likes pretty girls who are virgins and like being virgins. That's like, most guys' wet dream. How does that tell us where Helga is?' Gerald demanded.

'It doesn't, it tells us about the Cherry Picker.'

Gerald rolled his eyes, 'Oh that _real_ useful'.

Laura frowned and looked back towards the board, shaking off Gerald's comment. Arnold could tell that she was serious, she, like the Cherry Picker, knew her stuff. He knew that she could maybe get them closer to Helga. Arnold wanted her to know he was on her side.

'OK, so what else is important, what else can help us find him and then find Helga?'

Laura smiled at him, thankful for his faith.

'We know he likes to take the girls when they are on their way somewhere, probably because it means no one will think too much about them being out of the house. One thing he didn't count on was how concerned Helga's friends would be about her not showing up. Some of the other girls' friends just assumed they were no longer meeting them, or had changed their minds. Sometimes it was a good 48 or even 72 hours until anyone really noticed they were gone.' Laura looked to Gerald, then to Phoebe, Patty, Sid and the others, 'You have all bought Helga some time. Nothing can be more important than that.'

Turning back to the whiteboard, she sighed heavily. No one spoke, she entranced them all now, they waited for more information, some guidance as to what they were going to do.

'But I've not got him yet, I've come close. I could have stopped this sooner, caught him before he took another girl. I wont deny he's good.' Her shoulders became slumped.

Arnold stood. He felt as though he needed to inject Laura with some hope, she was obviously tired, worn. He was so grateful she was here, without her he was sure they would all just be sat around the kitchen table, fighting, getting nowhere.

'Laura, all of this, all of this is amazing information.' He looked to Helga's picture, her big blue eyes staring back at him. Her eyes filled him with determination.

'This will be the last time you have to do this, this will be the last time you have to come and tell this guy's story, their story.' Arnold paused, taking in all the young faces staring back at him. 'If I've ever been more sure of anything, its that this will all end with Helga.'

Laura glanced to him, trying to read his face. 'You might not like what that means Arnold'.

He shook his head. 'I'm sure I won't. But it stops here. It stops with Helga'.

The room was silent.


	12. Chapter 12

He'd been gone a long time; it's the longest he had left her since she had woken up in this hellhole. A mixture of fear and relief at his absence flowed through Helga as she lay here, chained to a dirty mattress. If he had died going off somewhere, maybe in a car accident or something, well that would solve the problem. But then no one knew where she was. No one would know she was here, chained. She would probably starve to death, her body would rot away in this psychopath's tomb. Alone.

She looked up to the photo of Arnold.

If only she had posted the letters. If only she had told him how she really felt, how she's always felt, maybe he would have moved back? Maybe he would have wanted to be with her and this nut job wouldn't see her as s 'perfect'.

She sighed, looking away from him.

Then a dark part of her wished that Dylan had managed to fuck her at Rhonda's party. At least that way she wouldn't be here. But would this psycho have known about that? How did he know so much about her anyway? How did he know about Arnold?

Arnold.

Closing her eyes she imagined him, breaking down the door to this nightmare room, nothing but love and determination in his eyes as he looked at her chained to the mattress. He would rip the chains off the wall, he would pry her ankles free. He would take her away from this place. And they would be together.

She opened her eyes. Nothing. The computer station's fan whining at the other end of the room was her only companion now.

Once again Helga tried to straighten her hands out as she attempted to pull them trough the shackles. She was already pretty badly bruised by being chained at both the mattress and when she had been, for want of a better word, 'cleaned'. And although they hurt like hell, it was worth a try.

'ARRRRRRRGHHHHHHH'

Yep, they hurt like hell.

She was bruised all over from Mr. Nutjob's psycho cleaning from yesterday, at least she thought it was yesterday. She had no idea how she could look attractive to him while covered in bruises, with her hair all matted and a clingy white gown that clung to her ever-protruding hip bones.

She had certainly lost some weight since she had been here. The only food he fed her was vanilla yoghurt. Being fed by him was one of the most degrading things she had to do in there. She needed to eat, she wanted to keep her strength so she could kick his ass if she got the chance. But it was like he was well aware of her thoughts, and probably the thoughts of the other girls too, so he fed her enough to keep her 'alive' but not enough to keep her strong. She looked awful.

The door opened.

She wasn't expecting to see what she did, pure shock and concern struck her soul as she watched him, a jubilant grin on his face as he entered the room. Carrying a girl. A young girl.

'My darling Helga. I have a sister for you.'

He walked over the same wall Helga was lay against and placed the girl down on the cold tiled floor. She was beautiful.

Helga watched as he bent down to observe his new toy as she lay their motionless, probably drugged as Helga had been. His eyes seemed hungry to commit her body and face to memory. Her long auburn hair even seemed to glisten in the dim light, she had milky white skin and a delicate frame. She couldn't have been older than 14.

Suddenly he tore his eyes away from her and left the room, returning in a second with chains and a power drill. He placed them carefully down on the floor and once again left the room, only to return with more chains and a collection of blankets and pillows. He neatly arranged the blankets and pillows into a makeshift bed and lovingly picked up his new prize before placing her down on it. Holding her arms to the wall he visually marked out where he would drill the shackles to the wall.

Helga felt like she had left her body and was looking down on herself, looking down on what must have happened to her. She felt sick. This young girl had no idea what she was going to find when she woke up.

Having completed chaining his newest victim, she was carefully gagged before he once again left the room in a hurry without saying another word. Helga looked to the girl and waited. She didn't want the girl to wake up, she didn't want her to see all that she was going to see, experience what she was going to experience.

The girl's eyes flickered. There was a loud buzzing noise. Helga knew what that meant.

Their keeper returned, and in tow, the 'Doctor'. Helga's skin crawled as she looked at his disgusting ancient face. She wanted to leap off the mattress and kick the shit out of him. For what he did, what he was going to do.

'I had to get her, I found she had taken a fancy to that boy. That one that has always liked her. She was on her way to meet him. I had to take her'. He was panting, trying to justify himself to the 'Doctor'. The skin and bone being merely nodded in response, staring at the young girl.

'I never normally have two as you know, but I couldn't loose this one. Such girls are hard to find. So hard to find'.

The girl woke up.

Slowly she tilted her head and began to focus her eyes at the images around her.

'Welcome my beautiful Angelina' He grinned.

Suddenly the girl tried to shoot bolt upright to only be pulled back by her chains. She looked to her arms and legs in shock, she looked at the two demons before her, and then turned to look at Helga.

The girl took Helga in, and as a flick had switched in her brain telling her exactly what was happening, she tried to scream through her gagged mouth.

'Now now we will have none of that'.

The broad man quickly pushed her down to the blankets and pulled off her gag, placing a rag against her lips. Helga knew what that was for, knew what they were going to do. She watched the girl go limp, aware, awake, but limp. A puppet with broken strings.

Like a well-rehearsed routine the skeletal man placed his bag at the foot of the girl's makeshift bed and began to construct the same equipment Helga had seen just days before. The stocky man cut off the girls clothes, staring at her form as he did, then left their side and wondered over to his computer station.

Helga couldn't watch, turning her head away she wished she could close her ears as well. She didn't want to hear the ancient man's breathing, the squeak of his equipment as he adjusted it. She didn't want to see the very thing that plagued her when she did actually manage some sleep. Being abused, being taken advantage of.

Moments later the light on the magnifying glass was clicked off and Helga once again observed the others in the room. Her keeper stood, a hopeful stare on his face as he begged the same question as when Helga was examined.

'Well, is she pure?'

The skeletal man paused for a moment, looked down at the new girl. He shook his head.

There was suddenly an atmosphere in the room. The ancient man packed away his equipment and left. Again, never speaking a word.

Helga held her breath as she watched the now sinister looking man observe Angelina. Helga knew Angelina couldn't move, she knew that all she could do was stare back, and think.

Then it happened.

He jumped on top of the fragile 14 year old girl, her neck surrounded by his powerful and bandaged arms, squeezing down.

'YOU DISGUSTING WHORE! HOW DARE YOU ALLOW ANOTHER MAN TO TOUCH YOU. HOW DARE YOU DISGRACE ME LIKE THIS'.

'WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING! GET OFF HER!' Helga screamed, but her shouts were ignored. It was as though there was no one in the room except Angelina and the large vicious creature with eyes burning in a clear rage, pressing down on her neck.

Helga heard the girl gasp for air.

'I THOUGHT YOU WOULD BE LIKE THE OTHERS, BUT YOU TRICKED ME WITH YOUR BEAUTY. I DIDN'T LISTEN TO MY INSTINCTS'.

Angelina's eyes started to move into the back of her head. He pressed down harder, he wanted to be sure the job was done.

Moments passed.

He removed his hands from her neck. She was dead, her chest no longer fell in breathing and her eyes were empty. Empty of life.

He stood up, looked down at the now lifeless child before him.

'I could have set you free, made you clean forever'.

He physically spat on her and then moved to unlock the chains that had only briefly held her in this cell. Grabbing her by the hair he dragged Angelina's limp form off the makeshift bed and towards the door, disappearing behind it.

Alone again, Helga sobbed.


	13. Chapter 13

She was with him now, he had found her in some disgusting nightmare room and saved her. She was hurt but safe, she would always be safe now she was in his arms, he vowed to protect her always. Her long blonde hair swayed as he carried her in the sunshine, and she looked up at him, adoringly.

Bending down into the grass Arnold held her close, smelling her scent as she embraced him back. They parted, and looked into each other's eyes as though viewing each other's soul for the very first time.

He tilted his head down to her and took her raspberry lips to his own, gently. Her lips were even softer than he imagined, she sighed lovingly into the kiss. After a few moments the now entwined pair opened their mouths, allowing the other to explore each other further. Arnold moaned.

Breaking apart they continued to star into each other's eyes, Helga lifted her hand to stoke his face.

"I knew you would come", she smiled sweetly.

He stroked her hair.

Suddenly the scene darkened, the warm daylight of the sun turning cold and misty, all around them a void of blackness. Helga looked to Arnold with fear, her voice shook as she spoke, tears in her eyes.

"You said you would keep me safe, you said you protect me"

As soon as the words had left her mouth a powerful force ripped her from his arms. He tried to grab her back, clawing at the air wildly.

"YOU SAID YOU WOULD BE THERE, YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME…."

She disappeared into the blackness. Arnold was alone.

Bolting upright from his sleep Arnold panted, sweat dripping from his forehead as he focused his eyes to reality.

It was a dream. His head fell back into the pillows and he sighed.

"Bad dream?"

Arnold turned his head to see Laura in her usual spot, in front of the whiteboard.

"You could say that" he replied as he sat up on the sofa.

Arnold had refused to leave the Pataki's home since Laura had arrived. She never seemed to sleep, constantly writing in one of her many notebooks or staring into space thinking. He didn't want to miss any kind of break through.

Mr. Pataki didn't seem to mind if Arnold stayed, so long as it was on the sofa. After several conversations Bob Pataki had warmed to the young blonde man, realising how much Arnold adored his daughter. Bob of course thought this strange. Helga was a difficult person to be around, it was as though she thrived on creating pointless arguments and was set out to irritate him, like the time he caught her smoking. That really made his blood boil. Arnold thought it was funny, typical Helga.

Laura broke Arnold's thoughts.

"Today will be an interesting one, if his patterns haven't changed, and they rarely do"

"What do you mean?" he replied, pulling on his shirt.

"Well, its day 9. He likes to call and tease on day 9"

This more than caught Arnolds attention.

"WHAT? He's going to call us?"

Staring at her intensely Arnold froze, waiting for conformation.

"Well yes, were going to have to set up to record it actually. Might be a good idea to call the cops as they're always interested in this bit, not that they achieve much from it. But it's a good insight as to whether or not shes alive."

"So he's called before…and told you he's killed them? He's called before and no one has traced it and found the fucker?!" Arnold was pissed now, his voice rising. Bob came into the room, followed by Miriam.

"I shouldn't need to remind you how good this guy is Arnold. We have tried to trace him countless times before, but he has some sort of blocker on the signal, like he's invented some new device no one has ever come across or experienced-"

"-THAT'S NOT GOOD ENOUGH! You say you want to help us, you want to help Helga, but its like your so desensitised to what's happening, like you don't care-"

Laura flew to her feet.

"Don't you EVER say I don't care! Just because I know his patterns, just because I understand how creative and clued up he is doesn't mean I don't care!"

Laura's face burned red and her eyes cut into his like daggers. He knew it wasn't a good idea to piss Laura off. Despite their lack of real progress she had really opened there eyes to what Helga was going though, she had been honest and frank about the what the situation was and was doing her best to figure out how they could get Helga back.

"I'm really sorry Laura, its just surprising you know." Arnold's eyes fell to the floor with regret.

Both Laura's face and voice softened. She knew he was sorry, that he hadn't meant his words.

"Don't worry about it Arnold. When he calls you will under-"

"-HE'S GOING TO CALL?" it was now Bobs turn to stare at her with a mixture of disbelief and anger.

"Yes Bob, he will call", she looked at her watch "and if memory serves he will be calling in the next hour, so make yourself useful and inform the cops, I'll set up the recoding equipment. Come on Arnold, I'll need your help".

Arnold and Laura spent the next hour putting together the recording equipment, the police turned up just as they had finished and observed Laura's set up with interest, all the while expressing a concerned look as to how she had obtained such rare equipment.

Now in silence they all sat around the living room in various places, all eyes on the phone now haemorrhaging wires to capture the Cherry Pickers words.

"Now I need all of you to listen carefully. When he calls, NO ONE says a word other than me." Her eyes darted to Arnold, "there are no questions I haven't thought of and no pleas I haven't already tried before. It will be hard for you all" she continued to stare at Arnold, "he doesn't like to be interrupted, and we want to keep him on the call as long as possible, get as much information as we can".

The phone rang. Everyone froze.

The sound seemed to echo in the room. Laura reached over and picked it up, pressing the speaker button as she did. They waited.

"Hello Laura." The cold deep voice penetrated the room, having a power no one thought it would. Arnold felt an anger creep into him.

"Hello, it's been a while", Laura replied, her face expressionless, her tone flat.

"Indeed it has. But you of all people know how difficult it can be nowadays to find such pure creatures; so much more work has to be put in to the selection process. It takes time."

Laura took a seat; all eyes in the room followed her movements as they awaited her response.

"So, tell me about Helga. How is she doing?"

The room tensed, never before had such a desire for a response been so apparent. The Cherry Picker took his time, he knew they were waiting, knew they wanted to know. He thrived on the control he now had, the power.

"Beautiful Helga" there was a pause, "Such a fine example of my work, such a fine example of pureness. Her parents would be proud…I assume they are there?"

Bob bolted up, it was clear he was about to scream bloody murder at the phone but in an instance one of the cops grabbed his shoulder. Shaking his head at Bob making it clear he should hold back, let Laura continue alone.

"They are indeed here, quite a few of us. Helga is appreciated" Laura seemed to grit her teeth as she spoke.

"Good, I'm glad. She is very special, but they had their time with her, it's my turn now".

Arnold clenched his fists, Phoebe quickly placed her hands on top of them. Her eyes begging him not to loose it, begging him to calm down. The phone echoed again.

"I assume you would like to speak to her?"

Everyone in the room was wide eyed; they looked to Laura straining for her to respond.

Laura looked about the room, her eyes rested on Arnold.

"Of course, it would be a pleasure".

The sound of a chair screeching across a hard floor protruded from the phone's speaker, followed by footsteps that seemed to echo from the wall that surrounded the kidnapper. Some fidgeting was heard as the Cherry Picker spoke with his mouth away from his receiver.

"My darling, your friends would like a word", he returned his mouth to the phone once more, allowing his voice to boom clearly across the Pataki's living room. "Please forgive her slurring, she had to be controlled for this, I don't like surprises."

There was a pause, Laura took this as her que to continue.

"Helga, I know you might not be able to respond, but if you can do anything, let me know you're there."

Another pause, then a sharp gasp echoed thorough the room from the speaker.

"Can't…" Helga took another sharp breath, as though the mere task of speaking was agony, "just…help me…"

Tears were falling from Phoebe's eyes, Arnold felt them drop on to his still clenched fist. But he couldn't comfort her now, not while he was so worked up, his blood boiled with rage.

The sound of the Cherry Picker once again filled the room.

"I hope you enjoyed that. Her last words to you, now if you will excuse-"

"WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE YOU SICK SON OF A BITCH"

Arnold was stood, fist still clenched and panting as he stared at the phone, waiting for a response.

Silence.

Arnold looked to Laura, knowing what would be displayed on her face. And it was, pure anger.

"And who may I ask is that?" the Cherry Picker enquired.

Looking back at Laura, watching her expression as he spoke Arnold replied.

"Someone who WILL find her, you sick freak".

Another pause. The whole room froze, half glaring at Arnold, half glaring down at the phone.

"I know exactly who that is." Arnold could sense the anger rising in the kidnappers voice. "So, come to claim your beauty have you Arnold? Did you come back hoping to de-flower my angel, but found a more worthy man had taken her".

Arnold didn't care what the others thought now, he was going to say what ever the hell he liked to this ass hole. He wasn't going to dance around with his words like Laura had, he wasn't going to let this sicko think he was all high and mighty.

"I came back as soon as I knew YOU had her, I came back to help".

"Always the knight in shining armour hey Arnold?" the voice seemed to literally grin through the speakers.

"Yep", Arnold snapped back.

"Well, Arnold. I can assure you, this is one damsel you won't be saving. This is one Cherry you shall not pluck". And with that, the phone went dead.

Arnold looked to Laura, her eyes full of rage.

"Well done Arnold, you've well and truly fucked us now".


	14. Chapter 14

Helga couldn't believe her ears. Arnold, Arnold was there. He had come back, come back to find her! She couldn't believe it! For the first time in days she felt a shred of hope, she felt warm again as her love for Arnold coursed through her.

But her keeper. She could see he was furious. As soon as he ended the call he had been pacing like a mad man…well more of a mad man than usual. He hadn't looked at her, though she was watching him, waiting.

Surely what ever Arnold said had worried him, maybe they had an idea of where she was? Maybe they were coming to save her? No. Surely if this nut job had thought that he would be moving her somewhere else now, taking her to some other sort of dungeon to pose his torture on her. Or her would have just killed her.

The large angry figure paused, then quickly swivelled round to face Helga. He stared at her, a madness in his eyes she had never seen before. Pounding towards her he stuck his face right in hers. She wanted to turn away, flinch, just do something. But the drugs he had given her, though she still had some motor functions, still deemed most of her reflexes useless. All she could do was stare back at him. His eyes full of anger and bittnerness. So full of disgust.

"You whore. Have you been whoring around with him then?" he continued to stare at her, waiting for a response.

She tried, it was hard work, no real words formed. Just noises.

She could see the anger raging behind his eyes. Then he struck her, again and again. Helga felt the pound of his fist smash into her temples as he raged. His hands throttled her throat now, and he pressed down hard. She could do nothing, she was useless, helpless.

She thought of Arnold, his golden untamed hair, his warming smile. Those big green eyes. At least he was her last thought, he would be her heaven.

She breathed, he had removed his hands from her.

Gasping for air she looked to her attacker, confused. His eyes were no longer full of rage, suddenly it was as though a switch had been flicked and his usual doting look of pure love and adoration had returned.

"My darling, what have I done?" He seemed genuinely distressed at his actions.

His hands flew to her shackles, freeing both her wrists and her ankles. He grabbed her into his arms. She lay there limp, he stroked her hair tenderly. She wanted to retch.

"My beauty, I'm so sorry. I know you are pure, I know you are good. He's just realised how good you are, a good girl, a perfect girl". His eyes closed as he held her, rocking her slowly.

"But he wont get you, don't you worry. You're mine now."

Helga suddenly felt her hand twitch.

The dark man continued to hold on to her, his face buried in her chest as he rocked her.

Helga could clench her fist.

He was sobbing now. Repeating her name over and over as he did.

She could move her toes.

Helga had to be careful, do this just right. She was so weak compared to him, she couldn't weigh more than 90lbs now. But she had to try.

The burly man continued to hold Helga close as her eyes darted the room, weighing up her options. Where to run, what to use.

Better now than ever.

Hoping her newfound movements included her entire body, Helga threw what little weight and strength she had into his chest, pushing him back to the floor. She watched the brief second as the back his head smacked against the cold tiled floor.

His eyes had closed.

Adrenaline surging through her Helga forced her weak legs to carry her to the seemingly invisible door and into the 'shower room' beyond it. The door was heavy, Helga willed her body to work, willed her body to be strong.

She had only been in this room once, and even then she saw no exit. There seemed to be no edge to the room as she glanced around, all the walls seemed encased in a darkness she had never seen before, as though the only thing beyond the few flickering strip lights was an oblivion of blackness.

Holding her hands in front of her Helga tried to feel for the wall. Finding it in the she moved around the room, her breathing hard. She knew time was limited, knew he would probably wake soon, why the hell didn't she tie him up or something? She cursed her hindsight.

She couldn't find a door, she found nothing.

"HEEEEEEELLLLLLGGGAAAAAAA!" a voice bellowed, full of anger.

She panicked; she couldn't find a way out, couldn't do anything. He was going to get her again.

Her eyes fell to the ground as she whimpered, following it's seemingly natural slope to the centre of the room. There was a grate.

Helga heard him fumble, as if he fell as he tried to reach the door, tried to reach her. He must have hit his head hard.

Thinking fast, she threw her self at the grate, fingering its edges and begging it to pry open.

"please, please, open…"

She felt as though her fingers were going to snap as she finally lifted up the large iron grate from the floor. Lifting it just enough, she slid it to the side and without hesitation she jumped in.

Helga gasped as her body smacked against the concrete flooring beneath her. Despite the pain, she sprung up and reached for the grate, carefully gripping it in her fingers as she slid it back into place.

A second later he pounded into the room. She held her breath.

"WHERE ARE YOU!? DON'T YOU DO THIS TO ME! NOT NOW!" he screamed, the sound of his pacing echoed about the room, searching for her insanely.

She stayed frozen on the spot, not sure if she was unable to move out of inability or for fear of being heard.

He stopped, there was silence.

"Oh I know where you are my sweet. Don't worry. It'll all be over soon".

She saw his hands grab at the grate, she screamed.


	15. Chapter 15

Arnold had a big fat black eye. After the phone call with Helga and the Cherry Picker earlier in the morning Bob had calmly wandered over to him, and without saying a word smacked him square in the face. Arnold woke up a few hours later on his old bed, back in the boarding house.

Sitting up he sighed. He had really screwed things up now. He remembered the look on Laura's face as the dead dial tone echoed around the room, she seethed pure anger. She had TOLD HIM to keep his mouth shut, but oh no, brave Arnold just HAD to shout his mouth off, he just HAD to let everyone know how he felt. Act the hero.

He flopped back down on to his bed again. The phone rang.

"H'lo?"

"Arnold". It was Sid.

"What the hell man? Everyone's in a mad fucking panic here!"

Sure enough Arnold could hear some heated voices in the background, but there were so many people talking all at once he couldn't make out anything that they were saying.

"What, about me screwing up the whole search" Arnold replied.

"Well duh, but you need to get over here now man, there's some news".

But before Arnold could find out what the hell was going on Sid hung up.

Panicked, Arnold forced his shoes on and flew out of his bedroom, almost knocking his mother over in the process.

"ARNOLD! What the hell are you doing? Where are you going?" she yelled.

He replied as he ran, there was no time to stop.

"Theres some news, heading over".

He heard his mother call to Miles, but Arnold had no time to wait for them. He had to get to Helga's house and fast. Maybe they had found her? Maybe the Cherry Picker had called again and they had confirmation she was still alive? Or maybe….no. He wouldn't think that, he had to hope.

Charging up the steps to the Pataki's front door Arnold threw open the door, and practically fell into the living room where everyone was either yelling in each others faces or crying, most of them were crying.

"What the hells happened?" Arnold demanded.

Everyone in the room turned to him. Bob's eyes burned like fire.

"YOU!"

Before Bob cold charge at Arnold and inflict any injuries Gerald, Harold, Sid and Stinky held him back, struggling as they did against his giant frame.

"YOU DID THIS! IT'S YOUR FAULT!" Bob bellowed.

"Bob calm down, we don't know for sure, they haven't really confirmed anything yet." Laura's response was steady yet fearful.

"Confirmed what? What's been-"

"-They've found a body Arnold."

Laura's words rang in his ears. A body. They have found a body. He needed more information. Laura read his face.

"A body of a young teenage girl, about 30 miles from here, in a ditch. We don't know anything else".

Arnold felt as though his legs were going to fail him. It was his fault, Bob was right, he had done this to her. Having arrived to hear the news Miles suddenly grabbed Arnold from behind, steadying him.

"The police have been examining the body, we've been told its quite a fresh kill, couldn't be more than 24 hours since she lived. But we must all remember", she spoke to the room now, regaining composure, "his previous victims, they were never found. This could be totally unrelated".

Laura sighed, looking at Arnold. "Or it could be a punishment".

There was a knock at the door.

Bob bombarded past Arnold and Miles, eyeing them both as he did. A few moments later a middle-aged officer entered the room. His eyes were tired and worn, with both lack of sleep and experience it seemed. A man that had seen too much.

Laura stood as the officer entered the room, her eyes trying to read his face.

"Laura, we have news". His voice was deeper than expected.

"The body has been confirmed as 14 year old Angelina Harrison. Strangled less than 24 hours ago. We're doing tox screens on her system now to see if there was anything else her death can tell us."

It wasn't Helga.

"I assume her death probably has nothing to do with Helga's kidnapper?" Laura enquired.

The officer stared at her for a moment, then reached into his coat pocket revealing a small brown envelope.

"On the contrary Laura."

Laura looked confused as she took the envelope from him, taking out its contents quickly. Her eyes fell upon the images the envelope contained, eyeing them hungrily.

The man continued. "As you can see, on her lower abdomen, just above her pubic bone is a little symbol, it looks like a - "

"- Triangle" she interrupted.

"Yes a triangle" he replied.

Laura's eyes lifted from the image briefly as she tried to absorb the officers words.

"But there's a line through it?"

"Yes there's a line through it" he replied.

The whole room waited for meaning, waiting for a clue as to what this all meant.

"It looks like your Cherry Picker found a not so perfect girl after all. He's made a mistake now. Now we have a lead".

Both Laura and the man smiled at each other. They finally had a lead.


	16. Chapter 16

Once it seemed there was a direct link between the body of Angelina Harris and the previous Cherry Picker victims the police couldn't get enough of Laura and her theories. In fact she had been gone from the Pataki house moments after the possible link was revealed, without any real explanation of what it all meant.

Arnold sat there in the living room with the others, staring at the big whiteboard, taking in all the images. Before she left Laura added Angelina's picture to the board next to Helga.

_Angelina Harris, 14,confirmed as sexually active, was taken walking to meet her new boyfriend Josh. Found dead – ditch._

"She could have at least told us what all these freaking symbols meant" Patty spoke, breaking Arnolds train of thought.

"Yeah, nice of her to just up and leave us now the Police want to hear what she has to say", Arnold replied.

"Oh Arnold, I'm ever so sure that Laura has to let them know what she does, there are oh so many unsolved cases around these girls. Maybe now they have an answer." Lila added.

Arnold rolled his eyes; it was just like Lila to state the obvious. His eyes landed on Laura's pile of cases bulging with paperwork and notes. He moved from the sofa and knelt down next to the cases, opening the one closest and began rummaging around.

"Arnold, I'm not sure you should be doing that." Phoebe chimed.

Arnold ignored her. If Laura wasn't going to tell him everything, then he was going to find out for himself.

"Yeah Arnold, you don't wanna be annoying the lady again. Seemed she almost murdered you herself with that phone call and what not" Stinky added.

"Well you can all sit hear staring at nothing but I'm going to carry on doing something, anything". Arnold carried on rummaging through the case, quickly scanning each document or note he came across…not that he really knew what he was looking for.

He sensed Gerald stand and wonder over to his side.

"Listen Arnold, I'm sure she'll be back soon and let us know what's going-"

"-Look at this!" Arnold interrupted.

The group gathered round Arnold, who while ignoring their comments had come across a small black notebook. Flicking through they saw there was a variety of symbols and haphazardly written notes…just what he was looking for.

Moving from the group Arnold sat himself back down on the couch, eyeing the notebook's pages in a manic manner, looking for answers.

"I don't get it, I can barely read her writing," he stated.

"Oh give it here", Phoebe said while snatching the notebook, "if your going to snoop through her things you may as well do it properly."

The group watched Phoebe nervously as she plonked herself down in the centre of the room and crossed her legs, then taking out her own notebook began to scan Laura's notes while making her own.

Arnold felt like his heart was beating itself up with the anticipation. He watched Phoebe chew her pencil, make a note, chew her pencil, flick through the notebook, make a note, then chew her pencil. She was driving him crazy!

"This is all very interesting, I have to say." She finally spoke.

"Well care to enlighten us?" Arnold retorted, Gerald shot him and angry glance.

"Of course Arnold, when you straighten out that tone."

"Sorry Phoebe", Arnold sighed, "What can her notes tell us?"

"Well, it appears the symbols are some sort of ranking system" Phoebe flicked back through her notes as she explained. "At first it seems that Laura thought it was something to do with their age or location, but she quickly left that idea before she moved on to them perhaps meaning purity, like how sure he was they were a virgin, or virginal." She paused, eyeing her own notes before she continued. "But it seems, when Laura looked deeper in to each girls story, each girls life, the symbols could perhaps reflect a ranking based on almost several things including his own desires for them. If we look at the symbol Helga got - "

" - A Triangle" Arnold added.

"Yes a triangle, the only other girls to get triangles were these three".

Phoebe pointed up to the whiteboard and indeed there were only three other girls that were graced with the triangle symbol.

"And as you can see, all three are different ages, but the one thing they had in common was their personality."

"What do you mean? They could all throw punches like Helga? Harold mused.

Phoebe smiled.

"In part, yes Harold. But as a whole, from these notes, the 'Triangle girls' are fiercely independent and strong-minded people with goals and ambitions. Laura has noted them as girls that will 'go far'. But the other interesting thing about theses other girls, including Helga, was that" Phoebe paused, looking a bit nervous.

"Was what?" Gerald demanded.

Phoebe looked to Arnold for a split second, before returning her gaze to her notes.

"The most interesting thing was that the girls with the triangle were, well, basically in love. All of them seem to have been in love with someone for a really long time. Not only that, it was an unrequited love of sorts, like these girls pined for something they could never have. If we look at them individually they were all in a very similar situation. The person they loved was either not interested in them, died tragically and they couldn't let go, was gay or in Helga's case he had moved away."

Arnold could once again feel eyes on him, he had to make sense of this.

"That's a pretty bold thing for him to think, I mean, how can he know how one person feels? How can he have known really what any of them felt, what was in their heads?"

"I don't know Arnold, how does he know anything, how did he even know about you?" Phoebe added. "From what I've seen in Laura's notes I'm not sure she even knows his methods, or thoughts. But if she did, I'm sure we wouldn't be sitting here now".

The room collectively nodded.

"Ok, well maybe they all had told him how they felt, maybe it was someone they all knew?"

"That's true Arnold, but with them all being taken from all over the country he would have to get to know them all really well, for like years before they would ever reveal something like that I'm sure" Phoebe reasoned.

"Yeah, and I'm not about to go tell my love story to some nut job" Patty added.

"You may not know he was a nut job," Sid said

"He sure sounded like one"

"Ok were all getting off the mark here", Phoebe stood and stretched out her legs before placing Laura's notebook back in the case and walked to Gerald, who took her hand with a small smile. "These are all theories anyway, Laura doesn't know for sure by the looks of it. Plus we don't really know how Helga felt Arnold, she wouldn't talk about you anymore."

"Maybe she didn't love me then, maybe it was someone else?"

"Maybe, but I doubt it" Phoebe said.

The room went silent, all were deep in thought with the information Phoebe had just divulged. All this information still seemed to get them nowhere.

"There is one way we can find out." Sid said, breaking the silence of the room.

"Oh yeah, and what's that?" Gerald mused.

"Go and look in her room"

"What, hell no that's off limits. I don't want a big black eye like Arnold there" Gerald added, "plus that's just weird".

"What if we found like a diary or something, something that mentions this dude? She's always scribbling down in those weird little books. Who knows what she wrote about?"

Everyone looked to each other in a silent agreement that though it probably wasn't a good idea, Sid was probably right. They did need to check, after all Helga always seems to be writing something down, making notes. Maybe she did have a diary?

"Ok, but I think only a couple of us should go up, it'll look less suspicious if her mom comes out of her room or if Bob comes back from the station." Phoebe reasoned.

"Yeah good point. Me and you then Phoebe" Arnold stated.

"Um, you sure Arnold…I mean, Helga's room"

"You know I'll just be going nuts down here until you come down, you might as well just take me" he pleaded.

"Yes I suppose" she sighed.

And with that the two of them rose from the couch and made their way up the stairs, quietly, to Helga's room.


	17. Chapter 17

Agatha Bell loved her neighbourhood. Everyone knew each other and was pleasant; everyone kept their homes tidy and their manners well polished. Every lawn was well manicured and every bit of woodwork painted a shimmering white. All loved living in the community of Whittlehall, each individual had so much to give in helping the community thrive and grow. Everyone, except Ivan Tomlinson.

Ivan Tomlinson had been through a tough life, Agatha knew this. He was once a well-respected Doctor at the local surgery, a celebrated Doctor, but once tragedy struck him everything changed. Agatha remembered the day well.

It was a Tuesday, summertime, about 30 or so years ago. Agatha had just finished baking another award winning apple pie for the school bake sale when she heard him, the screaming. The screaming was so soul shattering she almost dropped her fabulous pie…almost. Placing her latest creation carefully on the counter she quickly wiped her hands and made her way out the door. It seemed everyone on the street had heard it as each small, white, perfectly manicured house presented an equally perfectly manicured man or woman, with their eyes directed to the house on the corner, the most lovely house with white picket fences. Ivan Tomlinson's house.

And there was Ivan, staggering down his footpath towards the sidewalk. He was clutching his daughter, his 13 year old daughter.

"Somebody help me!" he screamed.

Everybody froze, sheer shock and disbelief at what they were seeing before them. His lovely red-haired daughter, the school-spelling champion, lying white and cold in his arms.

"Somebody do something!" Ivan screamed again, eyeing the onlookers in a panic.

Again nobody moved, it was as if all were paralysed in place, or like they knew this scene didn't belong here. Her beautiful wrists dripped the most red of bloods, only in droplets now, she was nearing empty it seemed. Death with such drama didn't happen in Whittlehall, this was a quiet place, a beautiful place where children laughed and love grew. But here, in front of them was death, a cold hard version of it.

Knowing all relied on her, she was the communities lead first-aider after all, Agatha made her way towards Ivan and his daughter. She approached him slowly.

"Ivan, I will call an ambulance" she spoke softly.

"You don't care, none of you care," He whispered while looking down at his cold daughter, "you all rely on me to help you with your sicknesses, with your disgusting bodies but you wont help me, you're all so SELFISH!"

"Ivan, really" Agatha bent down to him now, "Ill call an ambulance and they will take all of this away, make it better", she smiled sadly.

Ivan quickly turned his head, glaring into her eyes with a coldness she had never seen before.

"Life isn't perfect Agatha, things happen. There are monsters, monsters in the mind and monsters in the world. Maybe if your perfect little Sara was hurt, or lost, or anything, you wouldn't be so well composed."

"Ivan, please, lets take her inside before anyone else sees - "

"NO" Ivan rose up, his daughter in his arms, "Don't like scenes like this do you? Don't like the cold hard facts of life and death do you? Well I see this everyday, not everything is cherry pies and picket fences you morons!"

"MR TOMLINSON THAT'S ENOUGH! We know you and your family have been having…issues…with Mary but this isn't the time or the place to discuss it - "

" – You'll all see what its like, what it means when you need help and there are no answers, no one willing to help. You'll see." And that was it. It was almost at that moment, that precise moment that Agatha saw the soul of Ivan leave him, it was as if he had resigned himself to proving his words and here it started, with the coldness and emptiness of his eyes.

"All little girls should grow up Agatha, but some don't, some don't."

Ivan Tomlinson's famous last words it seemed, as from that day he never spoke again.

Why Ivan didn't move away was beyond Agatha. After the burial of his daughter he sold his practice and barely left his home. Time had not been Ivan's friend and the 70 year old man looked more like 105, with his skeletal frame and paper-like skin. He looked like he carried the sins of the world on his shoulders, and he seemed to like it that way.

People had tried to bring him back of course, bring him back to the community. But he wasn't interested. He just sat in his house, letting the lawn grow wild and the paintwork wither, punishing the neighbourhood with the cancer that was his diminishing property.

She looked over to his home now, his crumbling eyesore of a home. There had been petitions of course, demanding he fix it up, but in reality they had no power over him. She had considered reporting him to the care services; she knew they would have to do something, a man of his age alone like that. They would probably have to go in the property if she reported her concerns then they would see for themselves how disgusting he was. Because of course if the outside was that bad she could only imagine the horrors that lay behind the grime ridden windows. Onces the authorities saw how he lived they would have to remove him, put him in a home or institution. Yes. Then the house could be fixed up, sold to a nice young family.

Smiling, Agatha straightened out the lines of her skirt as she stood from her wicker chair. As she approached her perfectly placed 1920's style house phone she swallowed hard. 'It's the right thing to do' she thought, 'he has been a burden for long enough'.

Agatha reached for the phone and began to turn the wheel to make the call.

"Ivan Tomlinson, your reign of terror will come to an end soon enough" she mused.

But what Agatha didn't know was what the depth of her words meant, as there really are monsters out there, and Dr Ivan Tomlinson was one of them.


	18. Chapter 18

Arnold and Phoebe had been carefully scanning Helga's room for about 25 minutes, if there had been a diary then it had long been taken by the police…or maybe by Laura. Either way the places they had searched, bedside table, mattress, a few draws and boxes, gave them nothing to work with. Both found the process of snooping around Helga's personal space a bit unnerving, especially for Phoebe. Phoebe had always known Helga to be very tidy and organised, so seeing draws haphazardly left open and papers on the floor, mostly school work, around the room seemed almost surreal, like the room had been violated.

"Phoebe, all we have found are school notes and random bits of paper, the cops have cleared this place out" Arnold sighed.

"I'm going to check her closet again." Phoebe made her way back into Helga's closet, for the third time in ten minutes. Arnold had no idea why Phoebe was so drawn to the place; both had looked and found nothing but a very diverse wardrobe and the odd box of childhood possessions.

"Phoebe I think we should head back down, there's nothing here-"

"-There's a hatch! Help me reach it!"

Arnold quickly stood and pounded over to the closet. Sure enough right above the two was a hatch in the ceiling. Arnold reached his long arm up to the handle and grasped it, tugging it slowly for fear of something on the other side falling out. Nothing fell; both just stared up into darkness.

"Any ladders around?" Arnold asked

"Doesn't seem to be, give me a leg up."

Arnold bent down and joined his hands to allow Phoebe to secure her foot. Once she was positioned he easily lifted the small Asian girl as she pulled her way into the hatch. Arnold, feeling suddenly void of purpose waited for Phoebe to let him know what was up there, if anything was up there. A few seconds later light poured out of the hatch.

"There's a light then?" Arnold asked.

Phoebe didn't respond, he just heard her move around the space above him, she seemed to pause a few times in her movements.

"Um, Phoebe. Any joy?" He was getting impatient.

"Well…" Phoebe sounded nervous, "yes and no."

"What do you mean yes and no? Has she put anything up there?"

"Well yes, but I don't think it'll be of any use to the case…"

Arnold had had enough. He charged into Helga's room and grabbed her desk chair. Taking it into the closet with him, he positioned it under the hatch, climbed on it and pulled himself into the loft space.

The loft was larger than he imagined, it had a cold draft where the roof allowed the wind from the outside world through its worn cracks and holes. Catching his eyes with their sudden movement, Arnold's attention was drawn to a small cluster of pigeons staring down at him; they almost looked surprised with their human visitors. But they weren't the only things that caught his attention. There was stuff, lots of stuff. There were rows and rows of neatly organised pink note books, there was also one whole wall dedicated to some sort of filing system of folders and as well as all of this, there were dozens and dozens of pictures, pictures of Arnold and Helga.

Arnold took in the images dotted around the room. There were pictures of them together when they were 10, after they first realised their feelings, pictures of them before school dances, pictures of them with the gang at Dino World. Then he saw his favourite picture of them, the one he always kept with him. They were 12, Helga was smirking at the camera and holding up a novelty-sized lollipop, her arm around Arnold's shoulders. Arnold wasn't looking at the camera; he was kissing her on the cheek, pulling her in from the waist.

Arnold Smiled. Helga still loved him.

"Arnold don't be freaked out, Helga just -"

"- Has very unique was of expressing herself. I know Phoebe, this doesn't freak me out."

Arnold wandered over to the rows of pink notebooks. He knew what these were; she usually carried one around with her. He still had the one he got when they were 9, the little pink notebook of her poems she had accidentally dropped in a pile of Gerald's books. He smiled at the memory.

One thing he wasn't familiar with was the folders. There must have been about 50 or 60 folders lining the far right wall, neatly organised of course, some with hearts marked on, others with 'R's'.

Feeling bold Arnold reached over to one of the 'heart' folders randomly and opened it up. Flicking trough the plastic page protectors he absorbed what he saw. Letters, his letters, his letters to Helga. She did get them, she had got everyone of them it seemed and kept them in an almost preserved state.

Arnold was confused. This room, everything in it tells him Helga still loves him, was telling him what he wanted to still be true. But then why didn't she write back?

He closed the folder and placed it back on the shelf, sighing he reached for an 'R' folder. Opening it up and flicking through the pages Arnold got his answer; Helga had replied she just didn't post anything. Each plastic wallet held a letter, addressed and stamped ready to post. But rather than making their way to San Lorenzo here they all were, neatly filed away, never to be read. Yet.

Arnold felt Phoebe's hand on his shoulder.

"I told you Arnold, she wouldn't talk about you anymore. Its like she was trying to move on but couldn't. I guess its pretty obvious she couldn't."

They both stood for a moment, and took in the room with all its images and possessions.

A voice broke their silence.

"Arnold, are you in here?!" It was Laura.

Arnold hesitated for a moment, not sure that he wanted Laura to see the secret window to Helga's heart.

Yet before Arnold or Phoebe could try and do anything to get out of the loft Laura's head popped up through the hatch. Laura quickly scanned the loft and took in all of its treasures. She didn't come in, almost as though she too felt that she would be trespassing.

"Find anything of use? To the case I mean?" she asked.

"No, nothing like that. Its just…stuff" Arnold replied, his face growing a little pink with the realisation of what Laura was seeing.

Laura grinned.

"OK, well come down. I have something very interesting to tell you all."

"Oh yeah, like interesting interesting or _useful _interesting?" Arnold asked, putting the folder back neatly in place.

"_Useful_ interesting" she replied as her head quickly bobbed down from the hatch's entrance. "So useful and interesting you'd burn all that stuff in the loft just to hear it."

"It would have to be pretty fucking useful," Arnold muttered as he helped Phoebe down the hatch.


	19. Chapter 19

The hole was too big for him to fit in and grab her, but the pipe work around Helga was too small for her to crawl through. She did try, but even her now tiny weak frame couldn't squeeze through any of them. She had no idea where the pipes lead anyway, for all she knew it could lead to nothing, just another version of her untimely death.

"My darling, why are you fighting this, I thought you wanted to be saved, wanted to be clean". He had been there with her for the past three hours, trying to talk her back into his arms. Like she would do that in a hurry.

"Really sweet, you have no choice, you know that."

"No, actually I do. You can't squeeze your fat ass down here so I'm staying put bucko!" she spat, looking right into his darkening eyes.

"Oh Helga, that's why I like you, you're so feisty yet so vulnerable all at the same time. I mean look at you, you're like a fragile china doll down there, no way out. But you still have your spirit. That's why I love you."

"You don't love me, you're just a fucking nut job." Helga pulled her legs up into her chest and rested her head on her knees. She had no idea what she was going to do now.

"Do you think he loves you?" He whispered.

Helga looked up at her keeper, his large round head almost blocking the little light she had filling her new cell. He looked tired, tired and drained. But he still had that glint of madness, that glint that told her it wasn't safe. He wasn't safe.

"I don't know what he feels." She replied.

"Well, I think I can assure you he doesn't love you. He lusts for you. He is disgusting, like all those other boys, trying to get you - "

" - Id rather fuck Arnold, or anyone, than fuck you" She snapped back.

He seemed taken aback by her comment, absorbing the insult slowly. After a few moments he smiled, another dark smile, one that sent shivers through Helga's spine.

"I'm sure that is true my darling, but that's not going to be your choice now is it."

Sliding himself away from the opening of the grate he left Helga. She just sat there, looking up at the flickering strip light that hung above her hiding place. She could hear his footsteps slowly making their way to the edge of the room, then an odd clunking noise. She knew what that meant.

Moments later he appeared back at the grates opening holding it, holding the large steel industrial hose. He pointed it down into the grate.

"I don't want to hurt you anymore Helga, I want you to be happy and free. Now, I've asked nicely already, but since you wont come out I have no choice."

In that millisecond he had pulled back the handle on the head of the hose and a jet of powerful water shot out at her. The pain was so intense, with her already bruised body it felt as though a million fists were punching against her all at the same time. With the little room she had in the hole she pulled herself out of the jet of water as best as she could, pinning herself against the wall.

"Those pipes are too small to drain quick enough Helga, you should come out or you will drown."

He was right, water was filling up the small space very quickly, she could see some of the pipes working hard to drain as much away as possible but the water was coming in too fast. She looked around the space again as if magically willing the pipes to get bigger, willing the water to stop, willing for anything but the inevitable to happen.

"Come on now Helga, pull yourself up" he shouted.

She wouldn't pull herself up, not to him. If she had a choice, she would let herself drown. Surely it would be better than anything he was going to do to her, and if he did something to her after she was dead, well then she would be none the wiser.

Breathing out slowly Helga looked up at her capturer one last time. He could read her face it seemed, and it was as if he didn't expect her to do what she was going to. He thought she would panic, he thought she would reach out and grab for his hand, for him to be her saviour. No. Not Helga G Pataki.

She slowly lowered her head into the water, now almost past her chin anyway, and allowed herself to sink to the bottom. She closed her eyes. After a few seconds her chest burnt in protest with the lack of oxygen, her natural instincts were screaming at her to break the waters surface, take in some air, but she willed herself to say down, to relax, to let it happen.

Then she saw him. She wasn't sure if her eyes were open or closed but she saw him. He was there with her, like he had always been there with her. She took in his smile, his big warm smile. He looked at her with his big green eyes in a way she had only ever dreamt about, they were full of love. He moved closer to her through the water, his golden hair swaying as he did. Taking her hand he kissed her bruised wrist, and it didn't hurt anymore. He could never hurt her.

She would be ok. He was here so she would be ok, nothing had to hurt anymore. There would be no pain.

Then he spoke, almost telepathically. Without moving his lips his voice echoed around her mind.

"Its not time yet Helga. We have so much to do together, there's so many wonderful things that are going to happen for us. Its not your time yet".

His hand then left her and he seemed to fall back into the water's darkness. Helga watched him as his face was engulfed by the shadows, then he was gone. She suddenly felt very cold, very cold and alone.

Then the darkness of the shadows seemed to move closer to her, closing in on her in seconds. As it began to absorb her she knew there would be more pain, there would be more pain before she could be happy, before she could be free.

Suddenly, Helga felt hand grabbed her wrist and the darkness stirred, the shadows started to fade. She would let him pull her back out, she would let him think he had her, that he was going to have what he wanted.

She would let him think that, for now.


	20. Chapter 20

Arnold, Gerald and Phoebe were being lead down some very dreary looking corridors of the Hillwood police head quarters. Laura had barely said a word on the short drive down despite Bob Pataki's consistent questioning in the car. Laura was very good at keeping her mouth shut until she needed to, though of course impressive it was also very infuriating for them all. They wanted to know what she had found, they wanted to know if they were any closer to Helga.

Turning yet another corner Laura suddenly stopped in front of a set of doors. One labelled 'Interview room 12' and the other 'Observation room 12'.

"Ok, now the only reason you're all allowed in to see this, and by you I mean you three" she pointed to Arnold, Gerald and Phoebe, "is because after all their crap with not believing my case evidence they are feeling a little guilty and granting me a few favours." She then turned to face Arnold directly, "I have no idea what this guy is going to say, but YOU will say NOTHING. He can't see you, but if you scream and bang hard enough he WILL hear you. No more fuck ups Arnold."

Arnold had more than got the message. He would not doing or say anything. This was for Helga.

Laura tapped four times on the door labelled "Observation room 12" and was suddenly greeted by the face of the same officer who had met them at the Pataki house the day before, informing them of the true identity of the body found in the ditch. His tired eyes observed each face quickly before nodding to Laura and widening the doors entrance to let them all in.

The room was small, very bare and very long. It had no real light, just a very dim lamp in the far corner of the room, ensuring the rooms occupants were near smothered in darkness. One wall to their right held large tinted window viewing another room, a two-way mirror Arnold assumed.

"How long Frank?" Laura asked while staring out into the next room via the mirror.

"They're bringing him down as we speak. I must remind you all," he looked to Arnold and then to Mr and Mrs Pataki, "to keep quiet, we don't know what he's going to say - "

" – Who's he?" Arnold demanded.

"Oh, you'll see" the officer grinned back.

And with that the door in the adjoining room opened up. Everyone stood in silence as they watched a young blonde officer lead in a man, an ancient looking man, into the room. Arnold stepped forward, trying to take in the mans features. This guy looked like he could drop dead at any moment. His fingers were mere bones and his skin was like paper, like crinkled up used paper.

In silence the man floated down into the far seat across from the single table the room contained. He was facing the two-way mirror. As the officer cuffed his wrist to the table he smirked at the mirror, his eyes dark.

"Can, can he see us?" Phoebe questioned, her voice quivering.

"No, he can't. Trust me." Frank replied, his eyes never leaving the mummified mans face.

Suddenly the door to the interview room opened again, though this time a tall man entered, smartly dressed, determination in his eyes. Sitting in the chair facing the withering old man, the detective opened up a file and began shuffling through some notes.

The detective didn't look at the skeletal man as he spoke for the first time.

"Mr Tomlinson, I mean Dr Tomlinson, I'm detective McCann. Do you know why you're here? Do you know what we found?"

Arnold couldn't see the detectives face, but he knew he was looking straight at the old man now, waiting for a response.

"They told me you weren't much of a talker. Had to get your I.D. from the paperwork in your house didn't we?" Again there was no response.

"Well as riveting as this conversation is, I'd like to get down to the nitty gritty Ivan." The detective pushed the bulk of the paperwork aside as he pulled out some photographs. Arnold could barely make them out, but from what he could see they looked like images of items of clothing, some sort of old medical equipment and some pictures of girls, pretty girls, pretty young girls.

"Now, why in the hell would a man your age, a retired Doctor none the less, have pictures of school girls in his house?" The detective slowly pushed the images to the ancient looking man, he didn't look down, he just continued to stare at the mirroed wall, his eyes empty.

"I'm thinking, maybe this guy has a thing for school girls. That's not weird of course. But then when we look at the photographs, they're not graphic or anything like you would maybe expect. They're school photos, school photos of pretty young girls. School photos of the pretty young girls we've been looking for for a very long time."

Arnold heard Laura scoff back a laugh.

"Now Ivan, would you like to tell me why you have theses images?"

There was no response.

The detective stood suddenly, grabbed a couple of the images and started to wander around the room.

"Maybe, you're just a keen mystery man who wants to help find these girls and some how got hold of their pictures?" His face lent into the old man's now as he spoke, determined to strike fear into the man with every sentence.

"Or maybe, you know where these girls are? Maybe you did something to them?"

The old man did nothing, he simply stared ahead of him, directly at the mirrored wall as if he could see right through, like he knew who was behind it.

"Although, the pictures weren't the only interesting things we found were they, oh no." The detective moved away from the old man now, returning to the chair across from him.

"We found, amongst all the crap you seem to live in, some interesting equipment. Old medical examination equipment. In fact, one bit of the equipment," the detective threw an image to the doctor, "was scanned, and we found a nice bunch of DNA on it. Some of the DNA belonging to the recently deceased Angelina Harris." The detective paused, letting the skeletal man absorb the information. "Now DR Tomlinson, why oh why was her DNA on your old equipment?"

Nothing, no response. The detective leaned forward, Arnold knew his eyes were trying to scan the ancient mans face for a response, for anything.

"Now I'm not saying you took theses girls Ivan, I'm not even saying you killed Angelina. I'm saying you know something. I'm saying you were involved. Were you involved Ivan?"

No response.

The detective rose quickly and slammed his fists down on the table, the sound echoed around their small empty room.

"One girl has been found dead, countless others missing. One is still out there, possibly alive. Are you really going to give me nothing?" The detective was more than frustrated. Nothing was worse than a none talker it seemed, Arnold too was growing agitated.

The mummified man's eyes continued to stare at the mirrored wall. His dark eyes seemed to try and penetrate it.

Then he spoke, he spoke with a voice as rusty as they would have expected. A voice so unused it was barely a whisper, a whisper that grated harshly against their ears.

"Oh I was involved detective," he continued to stare at the mirrored wall, Arnold felt as if the man was looking straight at him, straight into his soul with his cold dark eyes. "But I'm not interested in telling you. I want to tell the one who loves her most. The one who would be destroyed with her loss."

"What the _fuck_ are you talking about" the detective demanded.

"I want to talk to the blonde boy. I will tell him everything, you can listen in if you desire. But I want to see his face when I tell him. I want to see his soul die."

Arnold felt the eyes of his friends burning into him, he swallowed hard.


	21. Chapter 21

Before Arnold knew what was happening he was being torn out of the viewing room and down the stale dark corridors of the police Head Quarters. His arm burned as Frank pulled him into a room just as plain and empty as the one the strange rotting man had been questioned in.

"Sit down" Frank stated firmly.

Arnold sat as Frank left the room. His mind raced. What did this guy what with him, what did this guy want to tell him? They had all been assured that this mad man didn't know they could see him behind the glass, but the mummified man seemed to have stared at him straight in the eyes through the mirror, straight into his soul.

The door clicked open and Laura, Frank and the interrogating officer, McCann, entered the room all looking flustered, all looking as though time was of the essence.

"Arnold right" McCann asked.

"Yeah"

McCann was an assertive looking man, couldn't have been more than 30 years old to look at him, but his presence held that of a much more experienced and wiser creature. His short curly hair lay untamed atop his head and his deep blue eyes bore into Arnolds green ones as he studied him, as if weighing up if Arnold was up for the task, whatever that meant.

"He's just a kid," McCann declared, spinning on his heels to face Laura.

"Jay you know we don't have much time, Helga's been gone too long now, its only a matter of time before she's declared gone for good. Is that what you want, to waste an opportunity?' Laura's face was stern.

McCann turned to Arnold again, his hands firmly rested on his hips in a defiant way, again eyeing Arnold.

"How old are you kid?' he asked.

"16"

McCann spun round to Laura again.

"For fucks sake Beaumont he's 16! We cant send a fucking 16 year old kid in to question a suspect, one that has more or less stated ON THE RECORD that he know what the crack is."

"I'll do it."

Three sets of eyes then darted to Arnold.

"I mean, like Laura says, we need to get Helga back. We need to know what's going on."

Frank rested his hand on the table, and with a deep sigh met Arnold's eyes.

"Arnold, we know you would do it, but we have no idea what this guy is going to tell you. It could, for want of a better phrase, fuck you up."

"Well if he was going to tell this guy," Arnold pointed at McCann, "Then we would have heard him saying it when we watched in that weird little viewing room".

"Yeah, true. But if it had gotten too dark I would have taken you out. Even so Arnold, there's nothing quite like having a man, a man like him, staring you in the eyes, and you alone, telling you some of the real horrors of the world. What people will do to others, what they have done…"

"He can handle it" Laura chimed in.

McCann folded his arms across his chest, staring at Arnold.

"Fine."

McCann then pulled the other lone chair around, sitting directly in front of Arnold. Cracking his knuckles and leaning his head back, Arnold could almost see the cogs working in McCanns head. Arnold could also sense the worry pouring out of the three adults in the room, they were going to have to use Arnold, do something they didn't want to have to do.

"OK Arnold first things first, you're not a cop. You're not going to act like a cop, but you're also not going to act like a little kid either. You're going to act like nothing. You're going to go in there and let him say what he needs to say, you're going to ask logical questions, like where she is or are there any others, got it?" Arnold nodded. "You're NOT going to like what he has to say from the feel of things in there, but as time is short and we have no other options to think of at this point this is the road we are taking. Got it?" Arnold nodded again, McCann stood up, quickly opened the door and left the room, Frank and Laura looked to each other, then to Arnold.

"Arnold, I really need to try and stay calm, no matter what this guy says. OK? Remember, this is for Helga." Laura's eyes were softer now, Franks too.

"For Helga" Arnold repeated as he stood, making his way with Laura and Frank through the door and down the dim corridors back to the interrogation room that contained their only possible lead, their only possible path to Helga.

McCann was already waiting outside the door when they go there, his arms folded. Laura turned to Arnold, her Hazel eyes boring into his.

"Arnold, we will be in the observation room, watching. Don't think you're alone." And for the first time since Arnold had known Laura in this short time, she pulled him into a hug. Arnold felt a great sadness transmit from her as she held him, she wanted to take his place, she knew he wouldn't like what was coming.

Once Laura released him she gave a small smile before opening the observation room's door. Arnold briefly spied Gerald and Phoebe gaze out of the darkness, only to have Frank usher them further into the small space as he too left the corridor. Just Arnold and McCann remained there, McCann still eye balling Arnold, clearly debating if he was doing the right thing.

"Remember, you're not a cop, keep calm".

McCann opened the doors that lead to the soulless being that knew where Helga was. McCann stepped in and with a deep exhale, Arnold followed.


	22. Chapter 22

Arnold wasn't sure what he expected to feel when he entered the small interrogation room. With all the build up he assumed he would feel immediate anger or fear, maybe even sadness. But as McCann led him into the room Arnold felt as if he was stepping into another world, one he was extremely unfamiliar with.

The first thing Arnold noticed was the smell, the type of smell that can only radiate from rotting flesh. Arnold's eyes met the face of the man who appeared to be the source of the odour, he could almost taste the stench rolling off him, infecting his nostrils. There was also an eerie presence in the room, a darkness Arnold had never felt before. It was as though all the hairs on his body were alert and stood up to this new and unpleasant sensation.

McCann caught Arnolds eyes and could read his face, he eyed him a message to show no emotion, not reaction. Arnold steadied himself and sat down, facing the mummified retched being that held the power of the room.

"Here he is, now tell us what we need to know. No more games." Arnold couldn't bare to see McCann hold his face so close to this creature, surely he should be gagging from the stench?

The evil creature looked up, straight into Arnold's eyes. Arnold felt something in him freeze as he took in the stare. The man's eyes were cold and dark; there was no sadness, no fear, nothing. Just dark pits where a soul should be, dark pits that seemed to try and engulf Arnold's being. The creature spoke.

"Indeed I see this," his raspy voice painfully filled the room. "Now officer you may leave."

"Hell no! That wasn't the deal!" McCann yelled.

"There was no deal I believe, but if you would like to know _everything _then leave us be." The dark empty eyes continued to devour Arnold's. "You shall leave, then I shall tell. We will all get what we want." Arnold saw the smallest curl of the man's lips as he stopped speaking.

Arnold tore his eyes away from the skeletal man, straight to McCann and Arnold could tell McCann didn't want to leave him alone with this creature, but he knew he would.

And as expected, McCann broke his contact with Arnold's and quickly opened the door, briefly turning back to the room.

"You know I'll be watching," he added.

"I'm sure you will" the creature replied.

McCann closed the door, Arnold swallowed.

Turning back round Arnold once again met the mummified mans gaze again. Arnold wanted to stay strong, he would wait, he would say nothing. If this creature wanted to play games he could start them.

Minutes went by with them just staring at each other, weighing each other up. The longer Arnold was in the room the more he felt the eerie presence subside, almost as though he was allowing himself to adjust to the room, allowing himself to focus on the task in hand.

"Comfortable?" the raspy voice questioned, almost reading his thoughts.

Arnold nodded.

"Well, I think I should like to remedy that." He saw that small smile again.

"Tell me, Arnold is it? Tell me Arnold how much do you adore Helga. Tell me how the mere thought of her makes you _happy_. Tell me all about how you hoped to come back, find her and make her your own."

"I don't think that's why I'm here, why don't you tell me about Helga. Like where she is." Arnold wasn't going to play his game.

The man grinned again.

"Oh, I can tell you all about Helga. I could even tell you where she is, or where she will be when he's finished with her."

"And who's he?" Arnold demanded.

"You see Arnold, there are many different types of Evil in the world. Some, like my friend who has Helga, are sick and confused. Their version of reality is tainted by their improper thoughts, their improper actions. And some, like me, use people like him to their advantage, to show the world what evil is like, that life isn't perfect. Nobody's perfect. There isn't always a happily ever after."

The man's eyes seemed more alive now as something stirred behind them. It was as though whatever evil he had within him was awakening, coming out to play.

"So, you know where she is, and who's got her. Why not tell me then? That's what you wanted isn't it, to tell me that."

"Yes and no Arnold. For you see I will of course tell you all you desire, all they desire," the creature pointed towards the mirror briefly. "But for this, you must tell me something."

Arnold waited, knowing what was coming.

"Do you love Helga."

"Yes."

"And if something were to happen to her, if something took her away from you, how would that make you feel."

Arnold paused for a moment, taking in the question.

"I'd feel broken."

The dark man smiled, the smile so wide it was almost as though the skin on his face couldn't handle it. Thousands of folds and wrinkles appeared with the action, making his face more sinister than ever, and his eyes were more alive than ever before, hungry for something.

"Wonderful" he rasped.

Arnold hadn't realised how much his heart was pounding. He needed to steer the conversation away from how he felt about Helga, he needed to get the answers they were all waiting for.

"Where is she then?" he demanded.

"First my boy, I'm going to tell you why- "

" - I don't care why, where is she!"

Arnold knew he needed to keep his cool, knew he was playing right into this mans twisted evil hands.

"You shall know. But first why."

Arnold was going to have to let him tell his story, let him have the floor for a brief moment. It was for Helga.

"The very idea of losing someone you love can be sickening to most, but actually losing them, actually knowing they are gone can make you feel a multitude of things. Seeing them once they're gone can destroy any man, or make them."

Arnold saw the darkness stir behind the man's cold eyes.

"When someone close to you is gone, its funny how some people can be there for you, act as though they understand. Though of course, they can never understand, they get bored of the grief, the scene, the memories. You will see that soon enough Arnold."

He paused, sinking his stare deeper into Arnold's green orbs.

"I like to make them see, let people see, let them understand what they had and how it feels once its taken away. Look at Helga for example. Smart, feisty clever girl, I found her interesting to watch. She was like only a few other girls I had selected for him. She was undervalued, massively so. Her family barely ever noticed her, her family were more interested in her air head sister. I tell you this though Arnold. Olga's not a perfect little angel, oh no, the things she's done when she's tried to get a part, a role in some shitty play, her father would certainly disown her I'm sure."

Arnold could almost feel the heat radiating from the mirrored wall, but could only imagine what was being exchanged behind it between the Patkai's.

"It was almost humorous, Helga being pinned as the bad girl and Olga the good one. Helga was very good actually, sure she came with a mouth, but the girl had morals, she was good and clean. She had a big heart too."

"She HAS a big heart." Arnold corrected.

"We'll see."

The man placed his bony-fingered hands on the table and Arnold eyed them with disgust, they looked devoid of anything other then bone and skin, almost like they belonged to the Reaper.

"I thought it very touching all the letters you wrote to her. She would write back of course, posting them in the evening only to remove them from the mailbox the next morning. She's a glutton for self-punishment Arnold, that's her biggest flaw, she seems to love getting in the way of herself. We all know you two would have had your happy ending by now if she had posted them, and who knows, maybe I wouldn't be sat her with _you_, though I assure you I would still be sat here, _eventually_".

Arnold held back making any remark, any sign that this soulless man was getting to him.

"Laura knows all about it of course, Laura understands. I showed her you see."

"Showed her?"

"She had a younger sister, Anne-Marie, very similar to Helga. You see _Laura_ was the star of the family, she was the one who was going to become a big hot shot, no one even noticed Anne-Marie, but she was special I knew that. She was clean so I knew my little friend would want her. So it was arranged."

"You, you did this all to Laura, to her sister?"

"Yes. And look at Laura now. She is consumed by guilt. Guilt of not really knowing her sister, not appreciating her. Laura has to go through life looking, dwelling, wondering. Anyone who really knows Laura knows she has a wasted life now, and even me saying this and her hearing it wont change a thing."

Arnold felt sick, he racked his brains to try and visualise Laura's sister, which one was she? How had he not known or thought to ask why she was even so obsessed with the Cherry Picker?

"You see Arnold. No one really cares how another person feels, it seems you never even asked Laura why she was so involved with all of this, so consumed by it. Too wrapped up in your own little world of sorrow."

He was right. How could this disgusting man be so right? Arnold felt so overwhelmed with his own self worth, about Helga, he never even thought about anything else, or how anyone else was even feeling. How were her parents coping, how was Phoebe staying so calm?

He paused his thoughts. No, he couldn't let this guy get into his head. He couldn't let this creature manipulate him this way.

Then it clicked. Arnold could play too.

"Laura's not consumed by guilt, I knew all about her sister. Laura wants to stop you from doing this again, she wants to find Helga. Where is she?" Arnold kept his stare steady, locking in with the dark man before him.

"I know you didn't know about Laura. Don't lie to me Arnold, you wear your heart on your sleeve and your mind at the forefront of your eyes. You can't play games with me little boy."

Arnold felt the anger bubbling in within him, he was loosing control, loosing his cool.

"Where. The. Fuck. Is. Helga. You. Son. Of. A. BITCH" Arnold stood now, his eyes glaring down into the creature's and was met with more darkness and a small smile.

"That a boy Arnold. Get wound up. Frustrating isn't it, all this lack of control, having things taken out of your power."

Arnold sat down. He couldn't let this freak win, he couldn't get carried away.

"I tell you what Arnold, I'll tell you what my little friend is going to do to her, what he's already probably done to her. Then, I'll tell you where they are. I want you to find her Arnold, I want you to see her, I want you to see her cold body. I want to know you will be _broken_."

Arnold clenched his fists.

"He took her Arnold, when she was least expecting it. He took her and drugged her. She was tied up Arnold, when I saw her last. We cut her clothes off her, drugged her again. She was able to see it all this time, she was able to see and hear and _feel_ everything we did. I checked her over, made sure she was clean. He was happy to know she was clean, very happy."

Arnold felt as though he was going to break his own hands they were clenched so tight.

"Now that I've gone, he's going to dress her, get her ready. He will keep her drugged, she will be aware, though powerless. He's going to rape her Arnold. He's going to rape her and then kill her."

The words rung in Arnold ears over and over. He felt sick. He felt cold. He saw the soulless mans eyes alive with darkness as he watched Arnold take in the news, savouring his reaction, savouring Arnold's fear.

"He's going to rape your Helga, make her bleed. Then kill her, and then he will burn her broken body. Burn her alive. Burn her until there is nothing left. You will find nothing left."

Arnold felt his heart quicken, felt his breath become deeper.

"You sick fuck!"

The man smiled.

"Arnold there are many types of evil in this world, I just let you see some of the darkness. You will see, all your little party will see, not everything has a silver lining. Not everyone can bring light to the darkness." The man rasped.

"Where is she?!" Arnold stood again, his eyes shooting daggers at the frail creature before him.

"See, you're already starting to understand Arnold." The skeletal man stood, his eyes glaring at Arnold, drinking in his reaction. "If she's still alive, she's not far from here. 20 miles west, the darkest place on earth."

"What do you mean by that?" Arnold demanded.

The mummified man simply smiled, before quickly pulling up his long sleeve and expertly tearing back a small section of skin on his forearm. It really was just like paper, it came away with such ease it was almost animated, almost unreal. Arnold saw what was concealed beneath the skin, the small, slim and sharp object glistened red with blood as the creature quickly pulled it out, putting it to his throat. Arnold could hear commotion behind the mirror, but ignored it unable to tare his eyes away from the dark creature before him.

"Remember Arnold there is no pain in death, only in life."

And with that, the skeletal man slashed a fine red line across his own throat, never breaking eye contact with Arnold, barely wavering as the thick red blood poured from the wound, spraying the table.

The interrogation room's door flung open.

"NO!" McCann screamed, throwing himself in the direction of the dark figure.

It was too late, Arnold saw what ever was left behind the mummified man's eyes leave him as he collapsed to the floor, his body empty of life's fluid.


	23. Chapter 23

Agatha Bell waiting patiently in McCann's office. It seemed that he had been gone hours, and she couldn't understand what all the fuss was about. Surely all these people needed to do was take Ivan to some sort of hospital, a 'special' hospital. She had told them everything days before so she couldn't understand what they wanted from her now. Maybe they wanted her advice on how to fix up and sell his home, make it lovely again, make Whittlehall beautiful once more. The office's door opened, breaking her train of thought.

"Mrs Bell" McCann entered, looking flustered. "I'm sorry for keeping you waiting like that, we had an incident". McCann sat at his desk, sweat glistening on his forehead. Agatha noted that although McCann was in the room, talking to her, he wasn't really there, not all of him any way.

"Its no trouble officer. I'm sure you're busy finding Ivan a suitable home. Now about his property-"

"Mrs Bell, I need to ask you a few questions about Ivan."

"Well officer, I've told you all I know. He was liking in very poor conditions, he needed help-"

"No I mean, I need to know about HIM." She sensed the urgency in his words.

"Well, why cant you just talk to him, I mean I know he barely speak but you're professionals and-"

"Because he's dead Mrs Bell."

There was a silence in the room as Agatha took in the news. Ivan, a once corner stone of the community, dead. Even so, he had become a nuisance, it might be easier and quicker to sort out his property now, without him around, no family…

"… Was he ill?" she had to seem interested, good manners demanded it.

"He slashed his throat actually." McCann leaned back into his chair, he observed Agatha, trying to read her reaction. There was no real shock or sorrow, just a blank stare.

"I see" she finally responded.

"Seems you're Ivan Tomlinson has been involved in a lot of missing girls cases. We found numerous things in his property that tied him to it. Then upon questioning he confessed it all, but to a young fella. Wouldn't speak to us, seems you're Ivan liked to upset the kid, wanted to see him squirm with the news his girlfriend had been taken, possibly killed." McCann paused, still, no real reaction.

Agatha couldn't stand the idea of a scandal, not in Whittlehall. It was a beautiful place where families could grow and flourish. With news like this, the community might break down, with news like this the 'riff raff' might move in, take the communities purity and taint it….Ivan's ultimate revenge.

"I see," she again added. "Well detective, I know very little of the late Ivan, we knew him once, a good doctor, a great doctor. Tragedy does thinks to certain people detective, those of us who are not strong enough to deal with it anyway. Those who cant keep themselves composed."

"Tragedy?" McCann may get something out of this heartless bat after all.

"His daughter, she had a sickness. Of the head. Very distressing times for the community, we had to get her pulled from school as she was scaring all the other children with her stories and behaviour, I tell you what detective never before have I-"

McCann interrupted, "What happened to her?"

"Well she killed herself, he couldn't deal with it you see. Pity, he had such a good career ahead of him, could have put the community on the map."

"I take it _your_ community wasn't too keen on his daughter?" McCann felt a sudden realisation.

"Oh don't get me wrong Detective. We all tried, found good care homes across state for the girl, we offered to fund-raise to get her to them, have a look around. But he wasn't interested, just wanted her with him, wanted to look after her even if she damaged the community."

McCann stood, he paced the room. There had to be something this woman could tell him, after a suspect killing themselves like that in the interrogation room there was no way he was going to get of lightly.

"Ivan did mention something" McCann stared out of the window as his spoke, half thinking, half talking.

"And what was that officer?" there was a strain of impatience in Agatha's voice.

"He said something, something about the 'darkest place on earth', do you have any idea of what that might be?" He turned to her now, hoping.

"I can't say there is any place I know I would describe as that, Detective. I live in the most wonderful community as you know."

"Thanks you Mrs Bell" McCann approached the door, opening it to signal he had finished with her.

"If we require any more assistance I will contact you."

Agatha stood and then nodded to him politely as she wandered out of the door. McCann watched her as she seemed to glide gracefully down the corridor and out of sight, past the very interrogation room Dr Tomlinson had taken his own life only hours before.

McCann was tired, out of ideas and plain in trouble. He sat at his desk and flicked through the closest case file he had on the missing girls. Helga Pataki. She really was something, beautiful without being too obvious. She had a quality, he could see that. He just hoped that something in his mind was going to give him the answer, give him the push to figuring out all the little codes this sick freak had told to Arnold.

Arnold. Poor kid. McCann sighed heavily into his hands. There was a tap at the door.

"Come in" McCann called.

Laura made her way into the room, they read each other in an instant, the way they have always been able to read each other when new missing girl's cases came about. They kept eye contact as Laura closed the door behind her and sat in the same spot Agatha Bell had moments earlier, worry etched all over her face.

"We've probably run out of time" she said, it was obvious she was fighting back her emotions, her tears.

"Times not run out until its run out. This is the closest we've ever been Laura." He continued to stare into her eyes, willing her to keep the faith.

"I know it is, but it still feels we have nothing to go on." Laura's eyes finally left McCann's and dropped to the floor. He knew she was loosing hope.

Suddenly the office door flew open, Phoebe and Gerald dashed in panting for air. Both McCann and Laura looked to them, bewildered at the sudden burst of energy they brought to the room.

"He's gone!" Phoebe panted.

"Who's gone?" McCann stood, sensing the urgency in her voice.

"Arnold. He left a note, I think he knows where she is" Phoebe passed McCann a sheet of paper with various notes and scribbles. Scanning it, it suddenly clicked, Arnold had figured it out, but he had gone alone.

"We have to go now!" McCann shouted, grabbing the phone on his desk and dialling quickly.

"Go where" Laura demanded.

"You don't want to know."


	24. Chapter 24

There were candles all over the room, they flickered menacing light against the cold tiled walls, tormenting Helga as their shadows danced. She was cold, wet and chained again. She couldn't move, not because she was drugged, he didn't seem to need to do that anymore, but because her body was weak and tired, it had given up on her.

The room had a warm dampness to the air as he showered, she didn't want to look to the corner of the room where the shower cubicle was held. She didn't want to see him. He disgusted her.

Closing her eyes she swallowed hard. She thought back to her time before this place, before her life was a guessing game of death. She had been happy, she had finally found her place in the world. Sure life wasn't perfect, but it was the most perfect it had ever been. Only Arnold had been missing.

Arnold.

She sighed heavily and clenched her eyes tightly as she fought back the tears. She loved him so much, so much it hurt. There was no way she was going to be able to tell him now. She would never be able to tell him how much she would give anything to see him again, to hold him, to kiss him. For the first time she finally realised what she really wanted out of life, and it was so simple. She wanted Arnold, she wanted to be with him, marry him and grow old with him. She wanted babies with him, little football headed babies. She grinned slightly at the thought.

The shower stopped, Helga's eyes snapped open.

The monster started to whistle cheerfully as he stepped out of the shower cubicle, steam dancing around him.

"Darling, are you ready?"

He didn't wait for an answer, she didn't need to answer. She had no choice.

She watched him as he draped a towel around his protruding stomach, and made his way towards his computer station. He continued to whistle as he rummaged around the files and boxes that lay around the glowing screen. He turned to face her now, a new excitement displayed across his dark features. He was holding a blade. A long sharp blade. Grinning, he approached her.

Helga felt chills run down her spine as he looked deeply into her eyes, absorbing her face, taking in her fear.

Standing before her at the foot of the mattress he let his towel drop, revealing his full form to her. Helga kept her eyes on his, she knew he wanted her to look at him, she knew he wanted her eyes to roam him. She wouldn't.

"Look at me." He whispered, a desire in his eyes.

"I am looking at you." She hissed.

"No. Look AT ME!" he spat, his fist clenching the handle of the blade tighter in frustration.

Helga let her eyes fall down his body for a brief second, trying her best to blur her vision as she observed the naked creature before her. In that brief moment she felt dirty, disgusted. He was disgusting.

"Stare at it" he whispered again.

She couldn't understand why he just didn't get it over with, like he did with the other girl. Why the hell couldn't he just get it over with quickly and be done with it. No point dragging it out.

"LOOK AT IT!" he bellowed, his voice echoing around the small eerie room.

She looked down, trying to focus her eyes on his belly button. Maybe he wouldn't notice.

"NO!" He yelled, quickly moving on to the mattress and making his way up to her. He knelt either side of her, his pelvis in her face. She wanted to retch.

"Look at it" he repeated.

She did look at it. His genitals were exactly how she had thought they would be, disgusting. Though it was obviously hard the skin looked wrinkled and worn with several freckles or moles surrounding the base, which itself was teaming with damp dark pubic hair. Helga was anything but turned on.

"This will make you clean my sweet, I will take you, give you pleasure, then set you free." He stroked the side of her face as he spoke, desire in his eyes.

"You must be joking. I'd never get ANY pleasure from THAT" she spat.

He slapped her immediately across the face, her cheek burned as she returned her vision to his, staring deeply. She wanted him to know she wasn't going to plead, she wasn't going to beg or even cry, she would do what she always does in times of distress, what she always does to keep the darkness at bay. She would go numb, wouldn't allow herself to care. It was the only way.

He began to stoke her face slowly, studying her in an adoring way. He seemed memorized. He brought his hands up to hers, still chained to the wall, and allowed them to slowly stoke their way down, down to the straps of the damp and sodden gown he had placed on her just hours before.

Helga didn't flinch; she just stared at his face, watching him take in every section of skin that he touched. The blade in his left hand he slowly and carefully sliced at the shoulder straps of the dress, allowing the material to slowly slip down her chest, coming to rest just about her breasts.

The monster breathed slightly deeper now, clearly excited in the first reveal in what he must believe to be a tender moment. His right hand slowly moved towards the material resting on Helga's chest, and with anticipation displaying clearly in his eyes, he began to peel the material away from Helga just enough to allow it to pool around her waist, revealing her naked upper half to him. He sighed with pleasure.

"So beautiful" he whispered.

Bringing his hand back up the creature slowly placed his right hand over Helga's left breast gently, and despite herself Helga couldn't help but take a sharp inhalation at the sudden intimate contact. He smiled.

"Don't you worry my sweet" he whispered, "I'll be gentle."

Helga said nothing, she simply stared blankly at his face as she focused on removing her mind from the situation.

The dark man then began to slowly massage her left breast, rolling her nipple between his thumb and index finger. He licked his lips, savouring the moment.

Loosing himself in his actions he allowed the blade in his left hand to drop to the side of the mattress, he required his hand for her other breast.

Helga was trying hard to keep her mind out of her body, trying hard to take herself out of this nightmare room with this nightmare man. She had imagined being touched before, what it would be like, but she wanted no part in this moment now. She just hoped she could keep her mind away, stay numb…feel nothing.

The now panting creature was slowly massaging each of Helga's breasts, playing with her nipples as he did. His eyes were wild with pleasure as he observed his actions, drinking in the visuals before him.

"So perfect, you have always been so perfect" he whispered. "They could never see how perfect, and they will never know."

He allowed his fingertips to slowly stroke down her body, down towards the pooled mass of material around Helga's waist. He clutched at the material, aiming to pull it down and reveal more of his prize.

Almost involuntary Helga flinched, bringing her mind back to the room, bringing her mind back to her body and the actions of the man before her.

"There is nothing to fear" he brought his hand back up to her face, stroking a tear away. "This was meant to be my sweet, you will be clean."

Helga said nothing, just allowed another tear to roll down her cheek as she breathed shakily.

His hands returned to the mass of material at Helga's waist and began to carefully tug it from under her, slowly revealing more of her fragile and weak form to her keeper. He once again he gasped with awe as he prize was finally unwrapped before him. Staring drunkenly at every inch of her form he released the gown from his grasp, letting it fall beside the mattress with the blade.

Slowly he placed his hands on her thighs, stoking them briefly with his thumbs. Then almost hesitantly he brought his right hand towards her most intimate area and grazed his thumb against the folds. Helga took in another sharp breath. The dark man didn't respond to her obvious protest, he simply continued to explore her carefully before bringing his hand back to her thighs and slowly running them down to her knees.

Moving himself back along the mattress slightly he began to slowly part her legs from the knees, placing one of his keeling legs and then another between them. He paused for a moment, looking down at her before slowly continuing to pull her legs apart, revealing her form to him more and more. His panting became ever more apparent with his progress, his member harder than it had been initially as it protruded out from him menacingly.

Again he paused, licking his lips, ready for his final action.

"My dear, are you ready?" he panted.

Helga didn't respond, she simply allowed hot tears to slowly roll down her cheeks quietly. She seemed to stare blankly at him, as though she wasn't there. But she was there, she was feeling what he was doing, knowing what was coming. She tried to get out of herself like she always could, but it seems, for this, she wasn't allowed. This she would have to endure. Helga trembled.

Seeing no obvious protest from his prize the menacing man ran his hands up under her thighs, grabbing her ass. He slowly pulled her body down, as much as her chained arms would permit, giving him easier access to her body for his next act.

"Here we are my sweet," he uttered, placing him self over her.

Helga felt his member against her stomach as he lowered himself further, his body slowly pressing weight onto her weak frame.

"No we have the beginning for you, the beginning of the end." He whispered as her breathed in her scent, positioning himself for his final act.

Suddenly the door burst open. The creature swung his head to face the intruder.

Arnold.

A wet, tired, dirty and panting Arnold stood in the frame of the door. His eyes full of hate, determination and anger.

"Get your fucking hands of her you SCUM!"


	25. Chapter 25

The room held a heavy air of anticipation as to what was going to happen next. Neither the dark creature nor Arnold moved an inch for a good few moments, both clearly in shock at the sight before them.

Helga too seemed paralysed with shock. Arnold was stood before her; he had come to save her when all hope had seemed lost. And yet suddenly she felt embarrassed at her positioning. True she was blocked from Arnold's vision mainly by the giant creature leering over her, but she was very aware she was naked, dirty and very very thin.

The beast before her broke her chain of thoughts in an instant, throwing the gown that had been cut from her moments before over her weak form. Pulling himself from the mattress he faced Arnold with a seething hatred Helga had not sensed from this being before.

"Let her go" Arnold stated.

Helga studied Arnold's face; there was a clear mixture of fear and anger pooled about his eyes as he looked on to the dark man before him. Clearly Arnold had not known what he would exactly be facing when he opened the door to this hell, but in what ever circumstance it seems there is not way he would have walked away.

"Let her go" Arnold repeated, determination clear in his voice.

"You had your chance BOY, you had so many chances. She is MINE now" the man spat as he spoke, his blood boiling behind his eyes.

"She's no one's, and she doesn't deserve this. None of them did. Let her go."

Arnold's voice was kinder now, more controlled. It seemed, if only for a second the dark being actually seemed to consider letting Helga go…for a second. But the darkness in this man began to stir again just as quickly; it seemed to ooze out of his pours as he began to breath deeper and deeper. Clenching his fists, he looked to Arnold.

"She will be clean, she will be pure." The man took a brief step towards Arnold, Arnold held his ground. "She will be set free." The creature took another step; Helga's Heart began to race. "She was chosen, you had your chance!"

In that moment the large furious man leapt at Arnold, pinning him to the ground. Helga could do nothing but watch in horror as the back of Arnold's head met the cold tiled floor with a thud, the dark man towering over him. "You think you're so special, you found me. Well, you may have found me, but I don't see any of your silly little cop friends!" the mans large tree trunk like arms moved to Arnold's neck where their chucky bandaged hands wrapped around Arnold's throat, slowly pressing down. "No one will find you boy, no one will find you or Helga. They've never been found."

Helga watched on, powerless as the love of her life was being murdered right before her eyes. She used what strength she had to pull herself away from the chains but it was useless, she was weak and useless.

Arnold was clearly using all his strength to force the monsters arms away from his throat, his legs smacking against the mans body wildly yet making little impact. Her heart was racing, there was nothing left, nothing she could do.

Then she remembered…the blade. He had put the blade down by the mattress when he cut off the straps to her dress. Helga tried to lean to the side of the mattress to peer over but her arms were chained so securely there was no way she could. The only part of her body not chained down for once was her legs.

Knowing the urgency of time Helga used all her will power to shuffle her legs to the edge of the mattress, allowing her feet to smack painfully against the hard tiled floor. She used what muscle power she had to move her feet along the side of the mattress, her body now painfully contorted in an unnatural position as she did so.

Her right toe found the blade first, she then slowly lifted her whole right foot and moved to where she predicted the handle of the blade would be and placed it down. Feeling the hard handle beneath her foot she glanced to Arnold, still struggling below the dark creature's grasp. There was no time, she had to do it now whether it was angled right or not.

"ARNOLD, KNIFE ON THE FLOOR" she yelled, while using her very last ounce of strength to shove the instrument across the floor with her foot. She watched it quickly skirt across the tiles before landing perfectly next to Arnold's right thigh.

Arnold felt it hit him, released a hand from his murderer's arms and grabbed the handle of the blade, and without a second thought sank it into the mans side.


	26. Chapter 26

Disbelief suddenly began to pool behind the dark mans eyes as he absorbed what Arnold had done. Never in his life had he thought he would be here experiencing this, never in his life did this creature believe that this is where it would all end, at the hands of a 16 year old boy by his own blade, his favourite blade.

"She was chosen" the creature whispered. "I was saving her, showing her love, showing them all love." The whole room seemed to have come to a serene stillness with the man's words.

Arnold didn't move a muscle, he simply stared back into the dark man's eyes with the blade still firmly held in the man's side. A warm stream of blood cascading from the wound down his arm in an almost soothing manner.

"I'm sorry Arnold," the man whispered, his breathing becoming shallow. "She was not appreciated, not loved." His eyes began to flutter, "none of them were…"

"I love her." Arnold whispered.

"Good" the man responded, before releasing the small amount of pressure he held on Arnold's neck, and with one final flutter of his eyes, and with one final breath the beast was no more.

Helga felt as though she had forgotten how to breathe….it was over. It was really over. Arnold was here and she was free. It was over.

Silent tears began to well in her eyes as she looked on towards Arnold, and an unimaginable well of love opened up for him within her, far greater than the love she had felt before. He had come for her and he had saved her. She almost couldn't summon the words to speak.

"Arnold..." she quietly uttered, barely a whisper.

Though clearly struggling with very large and deceased man on top of him, Arnold responded to Helga's call instantly as he attempted to shift the body's weight off him. Upon standing Arnold looked down, blade in hand, at the man now void of life before him. There was no going back, no changing it, Arnold had killed, he had taken a life. A small amount of fear and panic started to form in his chest as the reality of the situation dawned on him.

"Arnold." Helga whispered again, and he turned to her.

She was not the Helga he remembered or even knew. She looked so frail and weak, covered in bruises and chained by bloodied and twisted wrists. It was as though she was on the edge of death and his heart sank as he took in the sight. He had been just in time, he had saved her. He needed to remember that.

Dropping the blade to the ground Arnold took very slow steps towards the mattress. Both simply stared into each other's eyes as Arnold came down to her level and softly sat himself next to her.

"You came" Helga whispered, a tear streaming down her face. Arnold wiped it away.

"Of course" he replied before briefly leaning into kiss her softly on the lips. "I'm broken without you." Another tear fell from Helga's eyes as she smiled at him.

"Stop being so lovey dovey football head," she responded with a grin, showing Arnold that the 'old Helga fire' had not been extinguished.

Grinning Arnold began to lean in for another kiss, only to be interrupted by a loud slam as the door to dungeon like room flew open for a second time that evening.

"Everybody FREEZE," yelled McCann as he and 10 other officers with varying amounts of body armour poured into the room. Both Arnold and Helga watched as the small group of officers took in the room and the scene before them with obvious disbelief.

"What the fuck happened in here?"


	27. Chapter 27

Legends live and legends die. Some legends mould and develop over the course of Chinese whispers as a new generation of kids moulds and develops it, turning it in to something new, something more sinister than before.

Of course, not all legends have roots that can still be seen for years on end. Not all legends have a landmark which has devoured a once blissful place, a place which once projected joy and beauty. Not all legends were like Nina Hart's in the town of Warrington over 70 years ago.

Nina Hart was one of Warrington's most beautiful creatures. Her shining auburn hair danced about her face in a collection of playful ringlets, her deep hazel eyes had a glow of mischief accompanied by sheer dazzling beauty. She was beautiful, and everyone could see it. Everyone.

The tale goes that Nina had an admirer, well she had many admirers, but one in particular was more than keen. James Hudson had tried everything; he had bought her flowers, written her poetry, offered to take her to the most exclusive restaurants. But alas, some women cannot be won by generosity alone.

James had resigned himself to one last attempt, escorting Nina to the new town fairground, should she turn him down, he would bow out from his attempts in winning Nina. But much to his astonishment Nina accepted his invitation, though unaware that this would be a friendly gesture from herself as a means to 'let him down gently once and for all'. Nina was anything but cruel, but this attention had to stop…by friendly means.

On that fateful evening James picked Nina up as organised and the two headed to the fair. Anticipation of what the night would hold was high for James, unknowing to Nina's true intentions of the evening.

Once at the fairground James suggested they ride the Ferris wheel, knowing it to be one of Nina's favourite rides. This my keen legend seekers, is where the game of Chinese whispers takes off. As after many years what really happened on the Ferris wheel has been lost, or adapted. Or perhaps it is more simple than we think…

James assisted Nina onto the carriage, his hopes and aspirations for the coming moments rising inside him. They say those who were waiting to ride the wheel saw a glimmer of a more sinister man behind his eyes as he aided Nina in the carriage, others simply said it seemed to be nothing more than a lovely young man escorting a more lovely young girl out for the evening. Either way, nothing could have prepared those waiting in line for what was about to happen.

Around three minutes after the Ferris wheel had been turning, it began its usual 'stop-start' routine of allowing each carriage to be top of the wheel for about a minute. When James and Nina's turn at the top came, it would be the last time the Ferris wheel would make its turns for enjoyment, the last time Warrington Fairground would be known as a place of joy. As at the moment the wheel stopped for our two young friends, an ear-pitching scream was heard from their carriage, followed by a falling figure.

Nina plummeted to the ground, hitting the outermost carriage on the wheel as she fell, allowing for an ear splitting _crack_ to be heard. The crack of her neck breaking. As Nina smacked to the ground her body contorted menacingly, a pure look of shock and fear etched into her young face.

Screams filled the fairground, panic ensued below the wheel. In a fit of panic the conductor raced to get everyone off the wheel as soon as he could. The wheel turned. James was gone, his carriage empty.

Legends tells that Warrington fair was shut down immediately. James was never found. Some say he never left the fair, same say he dwells within the rotted ruins of the grounds, seeking forgiveness for the murder of his sweetheart.

Some kids even say they have seen him, wondering the Ferris wheel at night as they dared each other to enter the forbidden grounds. Some kids say it looked as though he was carrying someone in his arms, at times, other times kids could hear the howl of his sorrows fill the night air.

And every year the kids of Warrington dare each other the break the fence, dare each other to touch the broken and rotted Ferris wheel. Every year the kids of Warrington return to the hunted fairground, they return to the darkest place on earth.


	28. Chapter 28

"What the fuck happened in here?" McCann uttered, taking in the scene before him.

As far as he could comprehend, a sixteen year old had just taken out a man three times his size, who now appeared dead. As well as this the girl they had been looking for, one of the many missing girls selected by the Cherry Picker, was alive. She didn't really look alive but she was close enough. It wasn't the scene he had expected to find if he was honest with himself. He believed they would either find nothing, following an old legend was never a strong lead, or they would find a very dead Helga and a very dead Arnold.

"Again, what the fuck Arnold?". McCann kept his gun raised as he really took in the rest of the room. The smell of rotting flesh and decay think in the air, probably from the girl he concluded, very unlikely the now deceased man could rot so quickly.

"I-I figured it out," Arnold muttered, breaking McCanns thought pattern.

"I gather that Arnold, obviously." His words dripping with sarcasm. "But Id like to know why the FUCK you came alone and why the FUCK the guy is dead? There could be other girls alive!"

Arnold hadn't thought of this. For all he knew there could be several girls alive, chained like Helga, waiting to be saved.

"Fuck." Arnold sighed.

"I doubt anyone's alive." As Helga spoke it was no more than a whisper. It was obvious she was in pain, her lids heavy with exhaustion and weakness. She was close to being destroyed.

"Right, ok." McCann lowered his gun as his new focus came into mind, keeping Helga alive. "We need to get her loose and get her to the hospital" he shouted to no one in particular. "NOW!"

Very quickly the other ten or so men sprang into action, lowering their guns and heading towards Helga. After shoving Arnold off the mattes the team quickly set about unscrewing the chains and freeing her arms. One officer threw a blanket round her frail and almost nude form.

Arnold stepped back, taking in the scene and finally allowing some form of joy engulf him. Helga was safe, she was safe. He smiled.

Arnold wasn't sure how long it had taken him to realise he had been stabbed, it came over him like a wave of pain, increasing in intensity as the moments passed. It all seemed like slow motion, watching several of the officers ran to him, fear shining from their eyes. He vaguely heard shouting around the room, it sounded like McCann, as he felt another sharp pain slice into his side as he stood there.

Then another sharp pain came, then another. Then gunshots were heard as Arnold felt himself dropping to the hard tiled floor, his head smacking painfully against it for the second time that evening.

He took in a quick gasp of air as he allowed himself to roll on his side, his eyes falling to the blood quickly pooling around him as he lay there.

Tilting his head slightly Arnold caught the source of all of his pain. He saw the large dark man who all believed had been taken out but ten minutes before, struggling to stand against the onslaught of bullets raining over his large frame, struggling with determination in his eyes, and a blade in his hand. The very same blade Arnold had used on him earlier, believing he had ended this nightmare.

Arnold watched as the dark menacing man dropped to his knees, then fall back against the tiled floor with a soft thump. His head turning to face Arnold as he spoke for the last time.

"If I can't have her, you can't have her." The creature smiled one last time as his face became frozen with the cloak of death.

"Arnold! Arnold can you hear me?"

Arnold could hear McCann, he could also feel McCann as he rolled Arnold over to face him.

Arnold coughed blood.

"Listen Arnold, ambulances are on the way, hang in there Yeah?" McCann was clearly shaken, fear poured from him.

Arnold coughed blood again, he felt like his insides were on fire.

"Come on Arnold, stay with me!" McCann pleaded.

But it all became fuzzy, there was a ringing in his ears. His vision was clouding and the sounds of the world were dissolving.

Arnold fell into darkness.


	29. Chapter 29

Helga's eyes came in and out of focus as she tried to register what was happening. She watched Arnold's limp body as it was lifted on to a stretcher. She watched as she saw one of the officers, the one she presumed to be in charge of all of this, swear over and over as he ran his hands through his thick black hair, pausing momentarily as he looked back towards Arnold, to the large dead man on the ground, and then finally to Helga.

"We need to get him out of here right now McCann, we've got two ambulances outside." The paramedic carefully placed an oxygen mask over Arnold's face. "One for the boy and another for the girl. One more is on the way for the big guy."

With that Helga watched, unable to move a muscle out of sheer shock, as the motionless body of the love of her life was carried out of the room.

She heard a voice call her name. It seemed far away.

"Helga? Helga?"

A young woman was speaking to her, Helga met her eyes, not really taking in what the woman was saying. Something about needing to leave, something about an ambulance. Apparently it was all going to be ok. How could it be ok?

Before Helga knew it she was on a stretcher, staring hazily at the ceiling tiles as they changed from dirty white, to dark grey. Helga could hear the dripping of the hose as she passed it even with all the commotion around her. It was something she would never forget.

Pretty soon Helga's gaze was met with the stars of the night sky. The cool air hit her face in a way she would never have imagined. She took in a deep breath and watched as her breath formed a cloudy smoke around her as she exhaled, before quickly dissolving into the night air.

"She needs fluids now" one of the paramedics said. "Why the fuck do nut jobs do this shit in such random places?"

"It's all part of their mystique I'm sure." Another paramedic replied.

Helga slowly turned her head in an attempt to take in her surroundings. It was dark. She could only just make out boarded and tired kiosks. The signs above them were either missing or unreadable with age and ware. Time had not been kind to this place.

Helga's attention was suddenly drawn to a large wheel. A large Ferris wheel. It towered over her like a beast awakening amongst the darkness of night, relishing in the drama that had been unravelling around it.

"This place is as eerie as hell." The first paramedic uttered as the glow of the ambulance began to cascade over them. "Here we go sweetheart." Helga felt a slight jolt as they loaded her into the ambulance, and at once night sky vanished into bright yellow lights as Helga heard the ambulances door slam shut, followed by two bangs indicating to the driver it was clear to leave.

The sirens bellowed and once again Helga's mind clouded as she felt her arms being prodded and poked.

"Just securing an IV honey, you need fluids. Just stay with us."

"…Arnold." Helga whispered.

"Don't worry honey….he'll be fine I'm sure." Helga knew the paramedic was lying.

"He came…" Helga's eyes were heavy. "Just like I knew he would." Helga's eyes flickered.

"Stay with us honey!" The voice seemed so far away. "Come on Helga, stay with us!`"

Helga fell into darkness.


	30. Chapter 30

Arnold felt a sensation all around him he couldn't quite fathom as his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the space he now found himself in. There seemed to be no walls, just endless light, and a faint aroma of vanilla.

"Hello?" he called. "Anyone? Hello?"

Nothing.

Turning around on the spot Arnold felt panic rise from the pit of his stomach as memories of the last few moments flowed through him. But was it a few moments ago? It felt like an age since he had been in that dank and diseased room, an age since he felt the sharp but engulfing pain in his sides consuming him, an age since he had seen Helga's big blue eyes, full of fear.

Arnold automatically placed a hand to his side, fearing to look down and see the bloodied mess that had pooled around him earlier. He felt nothing, no pain.

"You're ok here" a voice called out, a small child-like voice.

Arnold immediately raised his head to meet the sound and found a small blonde child before him, probably about 6 or 7 years old. He had big blue eyes and an unusually shaped head, much similar to his own had been as a child. The child's skin was milky white and seemed to shimmer slightly.

"What's going on?" Arnold asked.

"You're deciding" the child replied. "But please don't take too long, if you choose to go back, then it can have consequences." The little boy frowned.

"What are you talking about?"

"You're deciding." The child rolled his eyes, obviously irritated at Arnold lack of understanding. "Just choose already."

"Choose what?" Arnold replied, clearly getting frustrated.

"Stop being mean, he doesn't know does he?" A new voice filled the void, a sweet voice. Arnold turned as slowly out of the brightness emerged another child, a young girl. She had long blonde hair tied back in a cute little pink ribbon. Her big green eyes full of wonder as she observed Arnold for a few moments, her skin also a milky white, shimmering as she moved. It was eerie but beautiful.

"What do I need to choose?" Arnold replied.

The young children considered him for a moment, before the girl spoke again.

"You're choosing if you're going to go back or go forward. Personally I think you should go back, otherwise we're kind of stuck here, and this place is boring."

"Still, not catching on here kids." Arnold mused.

"Ugh, you're so dense dad!" the boy bellowed.

Arnold felt his breath catch in his throat. He must have passed out, he must have fainted from the pain of being stabbed and now he was…hallucinating or something.

"Don't freak out daddy." The girl chimed, clearly noting how Arnold had frozen with the last statement. "I know it's a lot to take in, but you're in a kind of limbo."

"Limbo" the blonde boy repeated.

"You're pretty hurt to be honest" she continued.

"Yeah" the boy added.

"And you can go back, and it'll hurt. A lot. But you'll be ok in time. Or you can move on. But like I said, if you do that we're," she gestured to herself and the boy, "stuck here. So please go back". Her big green eyes pleading.

Arnold gave himself a moment to let what had just been said sink in. He needed to sit down, but he didn't want to either. He blinked hard a couple of times, trying to see if he could wake up. Nothing.

"That wont work." the boy stated. "Not until you choose."

"What are your names?" Arnold asked abruptly.

"How the hell should we know?" the boy snapped.

"Stop being difficult!" the girl huffed, "give him a minute ok!"

The boy sighed and folded his arms aggressively.

"We don't know our names yet, you give them to us…you know, when we get to come over to you…assuming it all goes to plan that is." There was a small sense of fear behind the girl's voice, a slight quiver as she spoke. "But time is getting on now, you need to choose."

"If I go back…how much will it hurt, I mean, will it be really bad?" Arnold asked, feeling slightly childish himself as he asked.

The boy scoffed. "The longer you leave it the worse it gets, there's only so long you can be 'away from yourself', then either way you're screwed."

The magnitude of what Arnold was experiencing was so immense he could barely think straight. He looked at the two small children before him. They were clearly his, it was evident they were some form of relation to him at least. His heart filled with joy as he saw the little girl grin at him, her eyes sparkled.

"Mum's already been, only briefly, a moment ago." The girl mused.

"Yeah, she didn't need forever. We didn't even get to say a word to her." The boy commented. The young girl shot an unimpressed glare at him and he shot his tongue out at her in response.

Arnold didn't need to question who their mother was. Arnold had seen an attitude like the young boys plastered on Helga's very face. Arnold snickered a little at the boy's scowl.

"How do I get back?"

The girl beamed at him. "It's easy, just ask."

"um, ok…I-I'd like to go back...please."

"Finally!" the boy sighed.

Before Arnold knew it he felt a great pull at his chest, and he grabbed at himself.

"Let them take you back!" he heard the girl call. "Just go with it!" Her voice was becoming more distant as great while white lights flashed insanely around him, slowly bringing in colour. "I'll see you soon dad!"

A haze of colour filled Arnold's vision as his senses came back to him. The first thing he registered was the pressure on his chest coming and going, it seemed to be getting stronger in mere seconds. Next he could hear the faint murmurs of voices growing louder and louder all around him.

"Arnold! You there son? Come on kid!"

His eyes shot open.

"YES! FUCK YES HE'S BREATHING" a man he could barely make out bellowed beside him.

"You see that! No vitals then BOOM! Here he is!"

Arnold's vision slowly came into focus, and then so did the pain. The intense pain shot throughout his body like nothing he had ever felt before, he groaned loudly as an oxygen mask was placed over his face.

"Here we go kid, some morphine should sort you out a bit."

A sudden wave of relief washed over Arnold.

"We'll give you some more in a couple of hours, need to get you into theatre pretty soon ok."

Arnold had no idea who was speaking to him, he didn't care, he just didn't want to feel that pain again.

"Helga…" he whispered almost automatically into his mask.

"He's trying to say something. What is it kid?" Arnold felt the oxygen mask briefly lift from his face.

"Helga." He repeated.

"She's ok fella" the voice replied, "trust me, you will both be fine, just don't go dying on us yeah? Proper buggers up my stats."

Arnold gave a small muffled laugh as the mask was placed back on his face, and he felt himself get wheeled out of the room, watching the ceiling lights pass him as he went.

He knew he had made the right choice.


End file.
